


Shine and Shadow

by jonesyslug



Series: In The Shadows [1]
Category: Doctor Sleep (2019), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Shining (1980), The Shining - Stephen King
Genre: AU, Addiction, Childhood, Coming Out, Crossover, Death, Drugs, F/M, Family, Fuck Stephen King, Growing Up, Half-Siblings, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Recovery, Step Siblings, probably dumb references to other stephen king works, the shining and other ~mind powers~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonesyslug/pseuds/jonesyslug
Summary: Wendy Torrance becomes Wendy Tozier, and Danny gets a new, and ultimately confusing younger brother, with a mind unlike any he's experienced. Richie is equally puzzled by his new roommate, while experiencing the growing pains of being away for his mother, his sister, and a hometown he can't remember.As they grow up they each face their own amazing and tremendous terrors, but unwilling to talk about them, they are brought back together by their niece, Abra, who is determined that their stories will have happy endings.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Maggie Tozier/John Pangborn, Wendy Torrance/Wentworth Tozier
Series: In The Shadows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583764
Comments: 70
Kudos: 108





	1. Blending

**Author's Note:**

> this one is for Rand, without whom, I wouldn't have written...anything I've written since September.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, forewarned is forearmed:
> 
> there isn't going to be any richie/eddie for a long fucking time, so if you're just here for that, i'm sure the website is chock-a-block full of things to better suit your needs! 
> 
> if you're still reading, thank you for coming on this journey with me. it's going to be a fun one, i swear.
> 
> a million, billion thanks to the5throommate, go check out their stuff, they're an amazing writer and always willing to bounce ideas around with me. (i love you, rand!)

There were a lot of things that Danny understood on a technical level, that he wasn't sure people wanted him to. They didn't want him to treat it so… the word his mother had used was _clinically._ Mr. Tozier- no, _Wentworth,_ never _Dad,_ but always that horrible name _Wentworth,_ was a nice man. A fine man. His mother loved him. He didn't drink. He didn't take pills. He smoked a cigar sometimes, but that was fine. He was nice. His mother loved him, and she really thought maybe one day Danny would love him too. Maybe one day, Danny would call Wentworth dad. That's what she wanted. 

But she didn't know he was in a stalemate with his new roommate. 

Richard Tozier had stringy dark hair, thick glasses, and listened to rock music too loud. Richie was 14 and Danny knew, 16 wasn't _that_ much older, but he felt centuries spreading between them. He thought, really, he could get along with Richie soon enough. Richie was annoying, but also funny, and weren't little brothers supposed to be annoying?

_Wentworth isn't my dad, but Richie is my brother?_

He wondered if Richie felt the same way, but he tried not to listen to Richie, if he could help it. There was something dark and powerful and pulsing in Richie's brain and he didn't even know it was there. Sometimes, late at night, all that darkness would slip down out of Richie's ears from the top bunk, and right into Danny's brain, and it was terrifying. Worse than The Overlook. Different. Stronger. There were nice things in there too, though, and he relished those moments. Those feelings of love and power. Those memories. 

One day, Danny had mentioned Eddie. That was a name that came up a lot. He hadn't meant to, and while he was trying to come up with a suitable lie, a plausible story to explain that _no_ , Richie had definitely mentioned him before, Richie just looked at him with a blank expression and asked, "Who's Eddie?" 

That blankness scared Danny. He double checked Richie in that moment, though he didn't like being in his head. There was nothing. There was no Eddie. 

For a while, Danny wondered if Eddie was Richie's Tony, and something had happened. The connection had been snipped. But it wasn't so. Eddie was somewhere out in the world. Danny checked. He didn't remember Richie, either. 

Richie didn't want an older brother. That was a problem. Richie hated the bunk beds, Richie hated Danny moving into his room and hanging up his own posters. Richie hated sharing his closet full of ratty tee shirts and patterned button downs with Danny's flannels and polo shirts. 

But Richie didn't hate Danny. Richie liked not having to ride the bus to school. Richie didn't hate Wendy. He wasn't ready to call her mom any more than Danny was ready to call Wentworth dad, but he didn't hate Wendy. In fact, he loved her. It hurt Danny when he felt it, the big spike of Richie's love for Wendy, because Richie's own mother had never tried to understand him. Richie could love Wendy because she'd spent so much of her life raising her Doc, and when a child behaved oddly in front of her, they were met with compassion and a desire to understand. He loved Wendy because she laughed at his jokes. Sometimes, Richie reminded Wendy of Jack when he was young, and she'd spend the whole day feeling guilty about it. 

Danny wanted to tell her it was okay. Richie reminded him of Dad sometimes too, but only when Dad was good, or at least neutral. 

Richie could scream if he was mad, but he never hit. He slammed doors and he stomped his feet, but he didn't want to hit anyone. 

Danny told this to his mother and she started crying and held Danny for a long time. She thanked him and made cheese rice and broccoli for dinner, because Danny liked that. 

Richie did not, and walked to the Taco Bell down the block with his crumpled up dollar bills and handfuls of change. Wendy had cried at the table while Wentworth rubbed her back, and Richie hadn't been allowed to watch television for a week. But that was all. It was quiet. No one yelled. No one hit. No one spit venom. 

_Come take your medicine!_

Everything was fine, and Danny even recorded Richie's favorite shows for him so he could watch them later. 

Danny had never had to be a brother before, but Richie had, and he missed his sister very badly. It made him cry when he thought Danny was asleep. 

His sister had stayed with their mom so she could go to college. She didn't call much. Danny didn't like how much that hurt Richie, because he always felt it, whether he was trying to or not. It woke him up sometimes. 

Rachel. Rachel Tozier was everything her brother hadn't been. Richie's mom liked Rachel. She understood Rachel. Richie worried that if they spent enough time together, his sister wouldn't like him anymore either. 

Danny never tried to find Rachel. He didn't want to be any more in Richie's business than he already was, and he knew it was too much. He knew too many of Richie's secrets. He knew too many things other people thought about Richie. Richie could magnetize other people's thoughts about him and send them right to Danny's head. He didn't understand why Richie and everything around him carried such sort of _power_ when Richie didn't seem to shine (and Danny _had_ checked. A lot. He yelled in Richie's head for weeks and Richie never noticed.) at least, not in the way Danny understood it. 

  
  


But Danny learned to deal with it. He bought Richie and himself some headphones and cassettes. It was easier like that. Richie listened to his almost constantly, and in those moments, the biggest thing Danny heard was which lyrics Richie liked best. 

And then, _then_ , they were starting to settle. Time was passing and bringing peace with it. Danny was finding more ways to cope with the aura around Richie. Richie was calling Wendy his mom. Wentworth let Danny call him Lee, his middle name. They were coming together in a quiet sort of harmony.

But Danny was the first to know, when it happened. Tony told him. 

**_Wendy is pregnant. It's a girl._ **

Danny had lost his sense and run to his mother's room that morning to tell her. Lee had absolutely no idea what was happening or how to process it. His brain flooded and overflowed. That was something about the Toziers. Even though Lee didn't have whatever Richie had, dark and simmering, both of them thought too much and too fast and too many things at once.

Wendy tried to calm Danny down. She needed him to leave. She needed to explain to Lee, finally, after three months of marriage. She had to sit him down with her prepared and dreaded _"Danny is a very special boy"_ speech. 

Lee was resistant to it, to the idea of Danny _knowing_ things, to the possibility that Wendy was going to have a child. He wasn't mad, but he was concerned about their apparent shared delusion. He knew what they had been through, and how something that massive could fracture your outlook into confusing bits and pieces, that it seemed natural they'd come together over something like that. He only challenged it gently, when he and Wendy were alone, but Danny could hear his doubt. 

So the day they went to the doctor, because Wendy was getting sick, Danny stuck a note in Lee's wallet before he left. 

_Tell Wendy you want to name her Lucy, after your grandmother._

Lee had cried that day, for a long time. He was happy and confused and he didn't know what to do. When Danny got home from school, Lee hugged him for a long time, in silence, before whispering, "I don't think I ever told you my grandmother's name, Dan." 

Danny stood back and looked up at him, and Lee noticed how deep and probing his big, blue eyes were. 

"You didn't." Danny said, simply. 

Lee nodded and wiped a tear away. That was it. That was all for now. Lee didn't want to ask questions. He didn't really think he'd understand. But he could accept. 

"You got any homework, champ?" 

Danny's heart felt warm. Lee only ever called Richie "champ" before now. Danny shook his head. Lee patted him on the shoulder. "You mind going to see if Rich needs help with his?" 

Danny nodded and walked away, leaving Lee reeling in a swirling storm of emotions. He was going to be a father, again. 

Danny went and sat in his bed. He already knew the only help Richie needed with his homework was having someone around to remind him to stay on task. So that's what Danny was going to do, even if he was playing Alice in Chains a little too loud in the tape deck without his headphones. 

Danny liked having a brother. Maybe he'd like having a sister, too. 

Richie swiveled around in his seat when Danny can in the room. 

"They didn't tell me yet, but I heard them talking about it." Richie said. 

"Talking about what?" Danny asked, nonchalantly. 

Richie rolled his eyes. "I know you know. The baby. We're like, officially brothers now, I guess." 

Danny cocked his eyebrow. "Officially?"

"Well… it's my dad's baby, and your mom's baby, so we're both gonna be it's brothers, so we're like, really brothers now?" 

Danny smiled. "If that's what you need to make it official." 

Richie looked down at his shoes for a second. "Am I a huge douche, Doc?" 

"What the hell are you talking about, Richie?" 

Richie turned the music down and stood up. 

"No, I'm like a tremendous dickwad, right?" He asked, as he started pacing. "Like everybody at school- no, fuck that, sorr-" he said, stopping suddenly and taking off his glasses. 

"Rich?" 

"I just… we're already brothers. Right? We don't need the baby for- Are we brothers, Dan?" 

Danny nodded. "Yeah, Richie. O'course. You're my pain-in-the-ass little brother." He said, standing and giving Richie a noogie. 

Richie laughed, startled, and flailed around a bit. "Alright, uncle! _Uncle!"_

Danny released him and they both laughed. 

"You're not a dickwad, Richie." 

Richie took in a deep breath and put his glasses back on. 

"Yeah, I am, but it doesn't really matter. Howard Stern is a dickwad, and he makes tons of money." Richie flopped back down into his chair. "I'm gonna do _that."_

Danny laughed. "Your dad _hates_ Howard Stern, doesn't he?" 

"Yeah, but he won't hate _me_ when I buy him a Maserati. Money heals all wounds." 

"Sometimes I wonder what it's like in your brain, man." Danny said, walking over to the bookshelf to look for something to read. 

Richie gave a sinister laugh and put on a scratchy, evil voice. "Oh, it's a big, dark, tangled mess, Danny Boy!" He said, punctuating it with a howl. 

Danny had to stifle a laugh. _It sure fucking is._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very excited to dive into family dynamics and get into what richie's mom and sister are up to. hope to see you back here again soon! 
> 
> please leave a comment, if you are physically able, as i will seemingly die without them. thank you.


	2. Who Watches Over You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are left home alone for a bit between Wendy & Lee leaving for the hospital, and Rachel arriving. When she gets there, Danny realizes Rachel's brain has some interesting quirks of its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back! Time for everyone to meet Rachel! (Again? If you've read Bad Day Served 2 Ways then you've technically already met her.) Rachel is... technically my OC but I think the '17 movie insinuates that Richie has a sister, and the '90s one says he does, so! BOOM! RACHEL TOZIER. I am proud to present her.

Wendy's pregnancy hadn't been easy on her. Her slight limp had become pronounced, and having to give up smoking for nine months was hard. She was a sweet woman, but she had her limits. She'd snap at one of the boys, then cry, cry, cry about it, she was so sorry, she didn't mean it, and they'd hug her and let her know it was okay. 

Richie hadn't heard from his mother since she'd found out about the baby. Rachel had called to congratulate her father, and spoken to Richie briefly, but that was months ago. She wrote him exactly one letter in that time, telling him college was crazy and fun and she didn't have much time but hopefully three cigarettes and a five dollar bill (enclosed) would make up for something. 

It certainly had. It cleared a big, dark cloud from his mind. Their mother hadn't come between them, like he so feared. 

The five dollars had just gone towards more cigarettes, once the three Marlboro Lights were gone. 

Richie was always careful with his smoking, but since Wendy'd quit, he'd had to be  _ extra  _ careful. He went all the way out into the woods past their yard at 3 am, with a duffle bag. Fresh clothes, cologne, mouthwash, gum, car air fresheners, dryer sheets. Anything and everything to make sure he didn't smell like tobacco when Wendy woke up. Sometimes he smelled so strongly of Listerine that it made her sick, but he thought that was better than the alternative. 

Danny wasn't overly fond of the smell of Listerine, either. The alcoholic bite of it in the air was not friendly. But he didn't say anything. He didn't even let on that he knew Richie smoked. He was keeping lots of secrets, and he figured Richie would prefer to continue to live under the delusion that he could even  _ have  _ secrets from Danny. 

Richie wasn't having nightmares anymore. There weren't even fuzzy, foggy images of any of it left in his mind. It was totally gone. 

Unfortunately that just left room for Danny to have his own nightmares. Sometimes, he'd wake up from one, panting, something still echoing in his head-

_ Come take your medic-  _

And he'd hear Richie whimper on the top bunk. The first time it happened, he'd checked on him. Physically, first, peeking over the top bunk- Richie was still asleep. Curled up and had his pillow clutched to his chest. Then Danny checked on him mentally. The landscape of his sleeping mind was fine and blank, he wasn't sleeping deep enough to dream, but he was vaguely aware of a roque mallet. 

Danny didn't understand how these things worked. The only one who had ever explained any of it to him was Dick Halloran, who knew how to put bad things in boxes, who knew about  _ real  _ ghosts, and twinkles, and speaking just with your mind. But there must have been lots of things Dick didn't know. Danny figured no one could know  _ everything  _ about the shining. 

So somehow, he could broadcast out to Richie,  _ sometimes _ . He'd never been able to on purpose. Maybe Richie wasn't even aware, the way he was a sponge. Danny often heard other people's thoughts hanging onto Richie like they were hitchhiking out of town. Richie never heard them. Richie would just sit there, watching television, and Danny could hear kids from his class thinking all their horrible thoughts about him and Richie didn't even know. 

It seemed to Danny that this effect got stronger the more Richie forgot about his hometown.  _ Nature hates a vacuum.  _ Things were rushing in to try and fill the gap, sticking like he was made of flypaper-  _ deadflies, thank God he's never got deadflies-  _ but they never really stuck, because Richie would have had to hear them to remember them. 

Danny was listening to his headphones, building stronger walls in his mind so he wouldn't see and hear so many damn things, so he wouldn't let things slip out of his head in his sleep- when Wendy's water broke. He was focusing so hard on blocking things out that he was the last one to know. He didn't notice until he saw Richie run past him, lugging a suitcase. 

Danny ripped off his headphones and followed him. 

Lee was helping Wendy limp to the car. Richie loaded the bag in the back. Once Wendy was in her seat, Lee quickly rounded the car to address the boys. 

"Dan, you're in charge until Rachel gets here." 

Danny nodded. He felt guilty he hadn't been able to prepare his mother for- 

"Dan, did you hear me?" 

Danny opened the door he'd built into his walls. 

"Yeah, money is in the cabinet with the plates." 

Lee sighed with relief and nodded. 

"Be good, Champ." He said, kissing Richie on the top of the head. He patted Danny on the shoulder. "Good luck, Doc." 

And then they were gone. 

Richie looked frazzled, his eyes were wide and his hair was a mess. 

"Where were you when the shit hit the fan, dude?" Richie asked, as they walked back inside. "I was taking a fucking nap, I woke up because Dad was yelling." 

Danny shrugged. "I guess my music was too loud." 

Richie gave him an incredulous look. "No  _ fucking  _ duh. You're gonna get brain damage if you listen to your shit that loud." 

Danny locked the door behind them. 

"What do we do now?" Richie asked. Danny shrugged. 

Richie bolted into the den. "We're home alone, right?" He called to Danny, who was following slowly. 

"Sure." He said, looking at the woman sitting at the end of the hall. She wasn't bad, just confused. This was her house, before. 

Danny had forgotten to close his door. He did so very carefully, and added more locks to it. 

_ Just count to ten and they're gone, Doc.  _

"We should do something stupid, then!" Richie exclaimed. He had his whole arm under the couch. He was feeling around for something. 

Danny was confused for a moment but, then, if Richie had anything he really wanted to hide, the den wasn't a bad place. Wendy and Lee never came in the den. Lee called it The Rumpus Room and considered it simply to be a place for the boys to sit with their friends, or girlfriends, if they ever had any over. The room was big and open- no doors- and therefore perfect for imagined privacy. 

Riche came back from under the couch with something covered in duct tape. 

It was too small to be a nudie mag or an  _ adult  _ video, like Danny had expected. He'd been thinking Richie was waiting for a good chance to prove himself to his new older brother, to engage in what he properly thought fraternity was, no matter how warped his image of it, but…

"Richie…" Danny said, cautiously. 

"Relax, Doc, it's not a crack rock. I remember the fucking Peewee Herman commercial!" 

Danny laughed. "I don't want to smoke with you, Rich, sorry." 

Richie sighed and blew some hair out of his face. "Yeah, I should have figured." He said, rolling his eyes. He considered the small parcel in his hands. "Ah, Rach probably isn't that far away, anyway. She'd totally narc if she came over and we had red eyes." He said, sounding disappointed. 

He dropped to his knees and stuck the tape back underneath the couch as well as he could. 

"I don't get how you don't smoke at  _ all  _ when your mom is such a tobacco fiend. I mean, my mom is the reason I started smoking." 

Danny tilted his head. "Well, it's bad for you-" 

Richie laughed. "Okay, man. What, are you gonna try and get in The Olympics or some shit?" 

Danny gave him a confused look. 

Richie waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Doc. You've got your own oral fixation and it's fucking your teeth up in different ways than mine is." Richie collapsed onto the couch and kicked his feet up onto the beat up old coffee table.

Danny came around and sat by him. "What does that mean?" If it was a joke, he really didn't get it. Richie's humor usually wasn't deep enough to have to try and  _ get.  _

"Dude, you serious? You suck your thumb, man!" Richie said, with a little laugh.

Danny turned bright red. "W-what are you talking about?" 

Richie frowned. Danny sounded really upset over it. "Yeah… like I dunno, when I get up to piss I always see you- I guess it just happens when you sleep, man." He said, shrugging slightly. 

That was when Danny decided he'd definitely never tell Richie all the things he knew. All the stuff inside his head. He felt sick. He honestly hadn't realized he was still holding onto that infantile coping mechanism, a decade on. 

"It's cool, dude, I won't tell anybody or anything." Richie said, gently. 

Danny didn't look him in the eyes. He could see I the peripheral that Richie's eyes were big and pleading. As if those thick lenses of his didn't make his eyes look gigantic enough, he was bulging them. 

Danny grabbed the remote and flipped on the television. They sat there, watching MTv without a word passing between them, verbal or mental, until the sun was down and there were headlights in the driveway. 

"Rachel!" Richie yelled, happily, launching himself over the arm of the couch and running to the front door. Rachel had barely stopped the car by the time Richie had yanked her out of her seat and pulled her into a hug. 

"Calm the fuck down, Dickie!" Rachel said, patting him on the back and laughing. "If you're that excited, bring my stuff in for me, twerp." She said, jerking her head towards the passenger seat. 

"Okay,  _ your highness."  _ Richie grumbled, but went to get her duffle bag anyway. 

Danny appeared in the doorway, and Rachel waved enthusiastically. Danny waved back. 

"Hey, Dan-o!" Rachel said, as she walked into the house. She took off her coat, looked around for a coat rack, then just dropped it on the ground. 

From what Danny had gleaned from Richie's perception, Rachel was a  _ perfect child,  _ a real Type-A personality. Danny had only met her once, at the wedding, and Richie had been too loud back then for him to hear anyone else.

"Hey, Rachel. How are you?" 

Rachel had the same lanky frame and big, brown eyes as Richie, but that was it. She had honey warm hair in loose waves and a button nose. She looked like her mother. But she was much more like Richie than Danny would have guessed. 

"Tired. It was a long drive." 

Only- Rachel had what Dick Halloran had called a  _ twinkle.  _ She didn't shine, but she always knew when there'd be a pop quiz, or what time to get to the cafeteria to get the last slice of cake. It meant she came through a bit clearer than most people, and though Danny had spent his whole day tuning people out, Rachel fucked it up the minute she walked through the door. 

"Well, thanks for coming over last minute, anyway. I know it definitely puts my mom at ease." 

Rachel thought Danny was weird. Rachel was not going to accept Wendy as a mother figure. It wasn't that she didn't care about them at all, no, she'd visit more when the baby was born, because the baby would be her sister. But she thought she was probably too old for a new family. She'd made it all the way to 18 with her nuclear family in tact, and now there were just a few tagalongs on holidays. In fact, her mom was going to be remarrying soon. 

_ Nobody mentioned that to Richie…  _

"Yeah, mom never would have left me and Doc home alone on purpose." Richie said, as he threw Rachel's duffel bag towards the stairs and leaned on the door to close it. 

"Hey, jerk-off, be careful with that!" She said, rushing over to make sure everything in her bag was intact. 

After a second, Richie's words processed, and she snapped her head up. "Wait, since when is Wendy ' _ Mom?'" _

Richie looked down at his shoes. He turned pink. "I dunno." He said, with a shrug. 

Rachel shook her head. "Whatever." 

But it was not  _ whatever.  _ Rachel felt betrayed. She didn't say anything, though. She simply pulled some VHS tapes out of her duffle bag and shoved them into Danny's arms. 

"I'm going to order some pizza for dinner." She said, curtly, walking towards the kitchen. She avoided looking at Richie as she passed him. 

"Oh, we're having dinner? I thought you'd be full from  _ chugging dick! _ " Richie yelled. 

"Beep, beep, Trashmouth!" She screamed back. Then she disappeared behind the kitchen door. 

"Beep beep?" Danny asked, quietly. Richie grunted. 

"It means ' _ shut the fuck up'. _ " He said, crossing his arms. He walked over to Danny and grabbed the tapes. "Let's see if she has any fucking taste." He said, looking at the covers. 

He pushed his glasses up with his knuckle. "Damnit." He whispered.

"What is it?" Danny asked, looking over Richie's shoulder. 

" _ Toxic Avenger.  _ Mom- my  _ mom  _ mom- never let me watch it, no matter how much I begged." 

Richie groaned. "Ugh. I have to go apologize, don't I?" 

Danny took the tapes. "I think so." 

"She shouldn't be so weird about Wendy, though." 

Danny thought about his own discomfort with calling Lee "dad". 

"It's just growing pains of uh, a blended family. I read about it in some magazine. I mean, it's just under a year now, and she doesn't know me or my mom very well." 

"I  _ guess… _ " Richie said, sulking towards the kitchen. 

Danny didn't listen in. He put on his headphones and went and sat in the den, with the tapes laid out in front of him on the table. 

Besides  _ Toxic Avenger,  _ there was  _ Evil Dead 2 _ and  _ UHF.  _ These movies had definitely been picked out with Richie in mind. So she was never going to be Danny’s sister, but Danny could be happy that his brother had a nice older sister looking out for him. Even if he didn’t approve of her encouraging his smoking habit. 

By the time Rachel and Richie made it back to the den, they were laughing. Danny sort of got the feeling this was just how they were. Snapping back and forth like a rubber band. 

“Ey, you laid out the movies, Dan. You have any preferences?” Rachel asked.

Danny scanned them carefully. He’d never seen any of them. 

“I dunno.”   
  


“Well, I know Richie is gonna like all of them, and I’ve seen them all before, so I only think it’s fair that you get to pick.”

“Yeah, Danny!” Richie said, flopping down beside him on the couch. “I don’t care what order we watch them in, as long as we watch Toxic Avenger tonight!”   
  


“Yeah...okay…” Danny’s hand hovered over the table, then he picked up  _ Evil Dead 2.  _ “Is this alright?”   
  


Rachel and Richie laughed warm, similar laughs, and Rachel took the box from Danny.

“We already said it was, Dan.”   
  


She put it in the VCR then sat down on the couch next to Richie. Richie’s heart was full, and he thought it was stupid, and at the same time he wanted to live in this feeling forever. Both of his siblings there! He got to watch horror movies, and he’d be able to smoke on the porch tonight, instead of all the way out in the woods. Maybe Rachel would even smoke with him! 

He looked to his right, where Danny was sitting up straight on the couch, in that blue hoodie he was apparently sewn into since the cold weather had started. Danny smiled back at him. Just a nice little, closed-mouth smile. Sort of shy. A very  _ Danny  _ smile.

Then he looked to his left, at Rachel. She was slumped into the couch, her whole outfit had been taken off a mannequin at The Gap, and she was staring at the TV with a blank expression that made her look sort of sour. But when she saw Richie looking at her, she grinned. Wide and toothy. Big dimple-causing smile, and mussed Richie’s hair. 

He giggled, then grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, and settled with his head on Danny’s shoulder and his feet on Rachel’s lap. 

To everyone’s surprise, he was asleep before the pizza arrived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww... Look at that. I love this chapter. There are actually three versions of this chapter and the first two were NOTHING like this, but this one won. It's more filler than the other versions are, but I really like how it turned out and I think the kids deserve some happiness! 
> 
> And then in the next chapter we get to do all sorts of fun stuff where I stitch together the movie and book versions of The Shining to create my own events because fuck it, amirite? See y'all again soon!
> 
> the chapter title is from Birdhouse in Your Soul by They Might Be Giants, which is on my fic playlist. 
> 
> go nuts: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2mvv2KbCP6G5OQ2oMLSm2R?si=ZVnmW4qNQJa3TTr84vWHoQ


	3. Comfortably Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't run away from your problems forever, doesn't matter who you are or how safe you feel. Richie Tozier has learned this lesson before, but this time it's actually going to stick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I was able to power through and finish editing this chapter FINALLY because Cooper got me super fucking pumped, so if you like it, thank them for that. They deserve it and they're cooking up something Real Nice. 
> 
> Uh, without further ado, Chapter 3!

After 3 slices of pizza and half a liter of cola, Richie seemed more awake and focused than he had in a while. He couldn't stop talking, even during _Toxic Avenger._ His topics ranged far and wide, from things that had happened at school that he wanted Rachel to hear, to Lloyd Kaufman, the co-writer/director/producer of the film. 

Rachel only half listened to him as she slowly ate her pizza, staring at the RGB majesty of the Torrance-Tozier's big TV. She wasn't even paying attention to the movie so much as she was watching colors flash while she sank into her own mind. She was good at pretending, though, and Danny figured she'd had a lot of practice over her life between Richie and Lee. She laughed at all the right moments, sensing them just by pitch of voice, so she thought. But it was just her little twinkle jumping around. 

Rachel would be able to recall details tomorrow if she needed to, if Richie brought something up again, but now she was just thinking about Dan Torrance. 

She'd been informed of and forbidden to bring up _the incident,_ so naturally she'd gone and searched the microfiche for it the first moment she could duck out of the house. And after she'd gone to college, she'd taken a trip into the city to the big library to find out more. 

It was all swarming around in her head. She hadn't been thinking about it much, the day of the wedding. Too much was going on, then, and all she really knew was that Jack Torrance had died in a fire. 

Now there were other details. A roque mallet. An axe. A bat. It seemed to her that anything in the hotel that could be swung at arm's length had been employed in the incident. She wondered if Danny had any scars. Maybe from his father, maybe from the fire. She didn't know. She knew Wendy definitely had scars. Watching her limp down the aisle at her wedding had been painful to Rachel. 

Danny did not like this. All the locks on his doors, on his boxes, all the layers of brick and mortar he'd mentally built- it was nothing. It reminded him of a Sesame Street book his mother used to read to him. Grover did everything he could within the realm of his ability to keep you from turning the page and revealing the monster at the end of the book, but ultimately he was powerless, because it didn't exist in the same way the book did. 

Well, Rachel was turning pages with reckless abandon. Danny tried hard to turn his attention to Richie's stories, or the movie, or _hell,_ even just something _else_ in Rachel's brain, but he couldn't. 

The grainy, black and white picture of Jack Torrance that Rachel had memorized came to life in Danny's mind, screaming and spitting, howling like a mad man and chasing him. 

Richie went to get himself another cup of soda, and saw that Danny had only taken a few bites of his pizza. 

"Hey, Doc? You okay?" 

Danny's glazed eyes focused on the matching sets of large brown eyes staring at him. 

"Uh…" 

"You worried about Wendy?" Richie asked, patting him on the shoulder. 

"Yep." Danny said, nodding and scratching the back of his neck. 

Rachel stared at him with a different expression than Richie had. Because Rachel could hear these things. Even if it was muffled, she could hear the screaming in Danny's head. She had no idea she'd sparked the flame, but she could smell the smoke. 

"She's gonna be fine." Richie assured him. 

"Yeah, I guess so." Danny said, looking away. He didn't want to look at Rachel any more. 

Rachel cleared her throat. "Dickie, leave Danny alone." She said, quietly. 

Richie whipped his head around, looking offended. 

"Wha- I'm allowed to- he's my-" Richie grumbled, frustrated, trying to come up with a sufficient argument that wouldn't ignite Rachel's feelings of betrayal. 

"Why?" Was all he could come up with. 

"Because he's going through…" Rachel paused. "Like, teen stuff. Heavy stuff. You wouldn't get it."

Richie scoffed. " _I'm_ a teen, what wouldn't I get, huh?" 

"Richie, you're basically still a baby. Danny and I are _young adults."_

"Ah, shut up, Rach, he's only two years older than me!" 

"A lot can happen in two years." She said, standing and starting to clean up the room. 

She collected their plates and took them to the kitchen. 

"What the _fuck_ does that mean?" Richie asked, slumping back onto the couch. 

Danny shrugged. 

"What kind of _young adult_ thoughts are you thinking, dude? What, you have some kind of Baby's First Mortgage to pay Fischer Price?" 

Danny cracked a smile. "Not exactly, Rich." 

Rachel walked back in the room and clapped her hands loudly. 

"Alright, Champ, time for you to wash up and head to bed!" 

"Aw- what? Are you serious?" Richie whined. 

"Dead serious, m'boy, you've been up far too long already!" She said, in a silly voice, wagging her finger at him. 

"Ugh, fine." Richie said, letting himself slide off the couch and flop into the floor. 

"Come on, Danny, you heard the warden." Richie groaned, as he pulled himself up. 

"I didn't say Dan had to go to bed yet." Rachel corrected. 

"What, seriously?" Richie asked, jumping up. 

"Yes, seriously." She said, grabbing Richie by the collar. She yanked him out of the room and pushed him towards the stairs. "Go on, Dickie." 

" _Rach…"_ he whined. 

"You're really not helping your case, bub." 

He huffed and stomped up the stairs. 

Rachel went back to her spot on the opposite end of the couch from Danny, and they sat in silence for a moment, listening to the tape rewind while as an infomercial played on channel 3. 

"I'm- I'm actually taking psych, this semester." Rachel announced. 

Danny chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Do you like it?" 

"Yeah! Yeah I do… I'm thinking about making it my major. I'm still undeclared, yanno?" 

"Oh, cool." Danny said, flatly. He didn't like where this was going. He felt like a bird before a storm. 

"So I was just thinking… if you don't have a therapist or anything, and you want to talk about your dad-" 

Rachel's brain was screaming, it was all arms reaching towards Danny with long claws, ready to take any information he was willing to divulge. It was a gaping mouth, hungry and waiting. 

Danny's head was pounding. "I don't- I don't know, Rachel." 

"Well, you don't have a therapist, do you?" 

"I d- I mean I used to, I don't now. I just don't think that-" 

**_Please tell me something. Anything. Anything. Anythi-_ **

She was bringing it all to the surface. Danny was back in The Overlook, his father's voice echoing after him. It was cold, everything was cold. He was never going to make it. 

**_I'm not gonna make it out._ **

"Woah, Dan, don't cry. I just wanted to help." Rachel said, with a sharp tinge of guilt. 

"Don- what?" Danny hadn't even realized it, but he was nearly sobbing. 

"Dan, I know that-" Rachel chewed on her lip. "I know that you've been through a lot, and-" she huffed. "And you're my family now, and I just want to help you if I can." 

She meant it. Part of her really did mean it. But there was still that part that just wanted to know the gristly details. To write a paper on it for extra credit, or maybe to submit to a publication. 

"I don't think you can." Danny said, lowly. A little bit of anger was rising up in him. She just wanted to exploit him. 

"Dan, there's something-" 

Rachel almost said it. She almost mentioned the connection. The shining. But she didn't have the words or the courage. "Dan, why did you keep your last name?" 

Danny stood up. "Because even- even though…" Danny took in a shaky breath and let it out weakly, trying not to sob. "I still love my dad, Rachel." 

Rachel looked at him in horrified confusion. 

"I'm going to bed. Thanks for the therapy sesh, Doc." 

"Danny-" 

Rachel stood and grabbed his shoulder. 

Danny spun around and shook her off. "If you're so fucking worried about someone, why don't you worry about your _real_ brother and his fucking memory loss?" Dan yelled. 

He clapped his hands over his mouth. He couldn't believe he'd just screamed at Rachel. He wasn't that kind of person. He didn't scream. He didn't raise his voice. He wasn't… _like that,_ right? 

Rachel was crying too, now. "Jesus, Dan. You don't think I've fucking talked to him about it? One of his friends got _knifed,_ Dan. Kids went missing all the time. We were all terrified. But if he gets to forget all of that? I'm going to let him. You know what?" Her face was all red. Her lip was shaking. Danny felt sick. "I'm finally starting to forget that place too, and I'm so _fucking_ glad. Kids killing other kids? Corpses washing up in the sewers half _eaten?_ Danny, I know you've been through hell, but we have too."

Danny blinked. "I- I'm s-sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to-to yell." He was really breaking down. But Rachel's stubborn streak had bubbled back up. She needed some time before she was going to forgive Danny for snapping at her. 

"Just go to bed, Dan." She said, walking past him and marching up the stairs. Danny didn't move until he heard the guest room door close. Danny sat on the stairs and sobbed for a second. He didn't want to wake Richie up, if he hadn't already with his yelling. 

He pulled his hood over his head and went up the stairs and into the bedroom. He stared at his empty bunk. He couldn't just curl up and try to sleep. He'd have nightmares, and that'd give Richie nightmares, and Richie didn't deserve any of that. Danny grabbed his flashlight from under his pillow and searched through the closet until he found the right box. Underneath all his summer clothes, there was a big glass bottle. 

He looked over his shoulder to make sure Richie was asleep, then tiptoed out of the room with it. 

Danny sat down on the back porch, his breath fogging in the cold night air. He wasn't wearing a coat, but he didn't really care. The booze would warm him up, right? Even if it didn't… maybe he wanted to sit in the cold. Maybe he wanted to be miserable and dwell on his past, or drink until he didn't even remember why he hated snow so much. He just sipped and thought. It got foggier, but it wouldn't go away. 

The door creaked open, and Danny turned his head around. He didn't know how long he'd been out there. He sort of expected Rachel to be coming outside to scold him.

But it was Richie, with his stupid red duffel bag and his dumb ski vest. 

"Hey, Doc." He said, quietly, taking a seat beside him. He eyed the bottle of bourbon, but didn't say anything. He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his bag. 

He lit up, took a deep inhale, then watched it trickle slowly upwards from the corner of his mouth. 

They sat in silence for a moment, but Richie never did like silence. 

"I heard you and Rachel." 

Danny took a long sip of his drink and muttered something.

Danny shrugged and sat the bottle down. "Sorry." 

Richie chewed on the filter of his cigarette. The things that Rachel had said bugged him, but- well, he could bother _her_ about that. Danny didn't seem to know the details anyway. It was weird that he had brought up memory loss- Richie wondered if _everyone_ knew. He hated the idea. 

His eyes turned back to Danny. He realized he wasn't saying any of this out loud. 

Danny looked sort of thin in the moonlight. He looked two-dimensional. Usually he seemed too awake, quietly alive like an ant arm. But now, he stared out at the trees and there was nothing moving around inside him. It made Richie feel uneasy. If Danny was _drinking,_ then he really didn't know what to expect. 

"Why do-" Richie stopped and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Why are you…" Richie pointed at the bottle. "I mean, if _he-"_ Richie breathed in deeply, not willing to say the words. "So then why are you? Drinking, I mean." Richie said, blinking at Danny like an owl. 

Danny looked at Richie for a moment. And that was all that was there. Just his face. Just his pimples and his thick glasses and his dark hair. Richie was just a solid being. Richie was a brick. He had nothing confusing and scary seeping out of his pores. He had no frantic thoughts, crashing against each other at the speed of light, all unrelated and somehow equally important to him. He was not spitting out words and images like psychic ticker tape. He was just Richie. 

Danny licked his lips, considering his answer. He slipped his finger into the ring he wore on a chain around his neck. His father's wedding ring. He tried to wear it properly all the time when he was a child, checking to see if he had grown, but it would always slip off. 

It fit perfectly, now. 

"Some people say it's a disease. I guess it's hereditary." 

"That doesn't mean you have t-" Richie thought about what Rachel said. _Young Adult_ problems. Yeah, this really was beyond him. "Where did you even get that? When did you get it?" Richie asked. He couldn't remember Danny having snuck out of the room recently. 

Danny stared up at the trail of smoke coming off Richie's cigarette. 

"Before I even moved here. There was- at my old school…" he sighed and started over. "When I was at my old school there was this party and this girl and I wanted to go, and she asked me if I could get her some bourbon and I said _yes,"_ Danny hissed, angry at himself. He still hadn't figured out why he'd agreed. He'd never been a very confident person, but the way it had shot out of his mouth- like he really thought he could do anything, if she asked him to… 

"And so then there was this guy. This homeless guy, I guess. I dunno. But I knew he was an alcoholic, 'cause-" 

_Because_ what, _Danny? Because you're psychic?_

"'cause he was sort of acting h-how my dad used to act. So I said if he got me this then he could keep whatever money was left over, and get himself somethin', yanno?" 

Richie nodded, just barely. He didn't really understand how- well, he'd hated smoking when he was a kid, hated when his mother did it, and yet, here _he_ was. Was it some even more fucked up version of that? 

"So if it was for a girl, then why do you still have it?" He asked, sounding confused. 

"B'cause when I got to the party, people were drunk already and they were all over the front yard, doing stupid shit, vomiting, yelling." ( _ **Great party, isn't it?** ) _Danny shivered. "And I just couldn't make myself go in." 

He took another sip from the bottle, and sat it down heavily. Richie flinched at the sound. He didn't like the slur in Danny's voice, the weird sort of slow and loose way he was moving. It reminded Richie of all those nightmares he couldn't quite remember. 

"So then I keep telling myself I'm gonna throw it away, or I _need_ to throw it away and I just…" Danny looked down at the bottle. "I never did." 

"You could throw it away, now." Richie said, quietly. "I can even throw it away for you."

Before Danny could register the movement, his arm had shot out to stop Richie from grabbing the bottle. His fingers curled tightly around Richie's wrist. Richie tried to pull his arm back, but Danny wouldn't let him. The cigarette fell from Richie's grasp. 

" _Don't."_ Danny said, in a tone that scared him. But he couldn't stop it. He was just watching himself from behind a thick haze and felt no more in control of what he did than he was of what anyone else did. 

"Danny-" Richie said, in almost a whimper. 

" _Listen,_ I don't throw out your fucking cigarettes and I don't narc on you, so you better not touch that fucking bottle and you sure as hell better not say anything, Richie." Danny said, from between clenched teeth. 

In a huge, dark part of his mind that he never wanted to know existed, he thought, _I know who you are, Richie. I could make your life hell._

Richie stared at him in stunned silence. His heart was racing, pumping to push blood to his hand but none was making it there. Danny was holding on too tight. 

"Don't tell." Danny warned. 

"I-I won't." Richie whispered. Danny stared at him. Tried to check him to make sure he was telling the truth, but he couldn't make the connection. 

"Okay." His grip loosened ever so slightly, and Richie ripped his arm away. 

Danny didn't even notice that he was crying. 

"Jesus... _Fuck…"_ Richie whispered, putting a new cigarette in his mouth and trying to light it with shaking hands. No, not just hands… his whole body was shaking around sobs he wouldn't let out. He was terrified out of his mind. Danny's big, blue eyes were always so kind and sad, but most of all they were reserved. He was always hiding. But just now, it had been different. Richie had been looking at these glazed, shining eyes that tried to look right into his soul. There was something razor sharp about the look. He couldn't stand it. 

Finally, after several unsuccessful flicks of the lighter, he got a flame going and lit the cigarette. He took a long inhale, and when he let a breath out- 

There it came. The first sob. He tried to reel it back in, shove it back down, but it was out. He pulled his knees up to his chest and put his head down. He held his cigarette far away from Danny, and curled his other arm around his legs. 

He just let his head hang and he sobbed. 

He felt an arm around his shoulders, someone pulling him into a hug, shushing him gently as they rubbed his shoulder. He didn't look up. _That_ was his older brother. _That_ was Doc. Not whatever had gritted its teeth and threatened him. Richie cried louder. 

"You're gonna wake up Rachel." Danny whispered. 

Richie took a big, stuttering inhale and tried to calm himself. Finally he brought his head back up. He pushed his glasses up onto his head and wiped his eyes, then pushed his glasses back onto his nose. He could see, just barely, where Danny's hand had left a mark in his wrist. It was throbbing. 

"What the fuck did you do, Doc? Why would y-" he whispered, barely audible even to himself. 

Danny stood up suddenly. He picked up the bottle, screwed the cap on, and chucked it out into the darkness with all the strength he could muster. 

It smashed against a tree with a terrifically loud shatter, scaring away a few squirrels. 

"Jesus…" Richie gasped, in alarm. 

"There." Danny said, breathing heavily as he sat back down. "I'm really sorry, Richie." He said, shaking his head like he was trying to shake the bad thoughts out of his ears. "I'm so sorry, I should have known- I mean I shouldn't-" it seemed he was about to start crying too. "I'm sorry. I'm never gonna drink again, Richie. I don't wanna be like him. I don't. I can't be like him. I'm not gonna drink ever again." 

Richie sat there for a second, considering the sight in front of him. The apparent grand gesture of penance. The guilt and the sorrow. 

He looked at his wrist. A bruise was forming, big and darkening, like a storm cloud. 

He was still scared. He loved his brother, but he was still scared, and why shouldn't he be? It wasn't as though Danny had suddenly sobered up, even if the rest of the booze was gone. 

"I-" Richie started. His mouth open again, but nothing came out. What could he say if he didn't even know how he felt? 

He dropped his cigarette, stood up, and stomped it out. 

"I'm going to bed, Dan. You just-" he could feel himself starting to cry again. "Don't come up for a minu- gimme a few seconds, okay?" He asked, as he turned to walk into the house. When his hand reached the doorknob he paused. 

"Don't do anything stupid, Doc." He said, before shuffling inside. 

Danny listened until he couldn't hear Richie's footsteps anymore. 

**_Don_ ** **'** **_t do anything_ ** **else** **_stupid, is what he means._ **

"Shut up, Tony." Danny grunted, as he laid down on the deck. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is probably going to be a time jump, but don't hold me to that because sometimes I lie to myself on accident. 
> 
> Please leave a comment. I will respond and we can have a jolly old time. I need comments to fuel me through the writing process. I love you. Remember: Fuck Stephen King!


	4. Feet in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Richie's 15th birthday and Dan has plenty to reminisce about from the past few months, both good and bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally this chapter but especially the next chapter wouldn't exist without Rand whom I love so very much. They have a fantastic ongoing fic right now, and if you like this fic, you'll LOVE theirs. ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028092/chapters/52570465 ) (I don't know how to hyperlink on mobile leave me alone)

Dan sat on the stairs, listening to the general noise of the small party in the rumpus room. He'd been on his way down to give Richie his birthday present, but Richie was talking to his crush, and Dan decided to leave them alone for a bit. He could come in when Wendy clumsily and unknowingly interrupted to bring in the cake. 

There was a pleasant warmth in Richie's heart, something he hadn't felt since before Lucy was born. That night, that fucking night when he'd fallen asleep on the couch between Dan and Rachel, that was the last time he'd felt this good. 

Dan chewed the inside of his cheek. That had been a while ago. Enough time for winter to melt away into a cool spring. Dan knew that it was his fault. He'd barely been able to keep his sobriety promise for a week. Seeing the bruise he'd left, the consequences of his actions, should have snapped him out of it but, really had just made it worse. God, ithe bruise hadn't gone away for an entire month, and Richie jumped every time Dan walked in the room. There was a constant reminder of his guilt hanging in the air and that just drove him closer to the bottle. 

He tried to act normal, but he and Richie both knew… it was not okay. Eventually, Dan couldn't take it anymore, because even with the shining put to sleep under a warm layer of booze, he could still see, just with normal fucking human perception, that he was hurting Richie. That Richie was upset and scared and most of all that he still loved Dan and he wanted this all to be over. So Dan asked if he could move into the spare room in the basement. The small, windowless room that Wendy had once deemed unfit for human life. 

All it took was a few tears about how tired he was and a lie that he couldn't sleep because Lucy cried too much. Lee had brushed his hair back, then patted him on the shoulder and agreed. 

Lucy made things easier on Dan. There wasn't much time or attention left over for him and it made it easier to keep his secrets from his parents. 

Richie missed Dan after he moved down stairs, because Dan rarely left the basement, but he had to admit, it was a little easier. It was easier to sleep. It was easier to study. Hell, sometimes it was easier to be a part of the family. He would sit with his father and Wendy and they'd all take turns holding Lucy while they watched television. Lee liked Night Court, Wendy liked Perfect Strangers, and Richie liked The Simpsons. They all enjoyed watching them together and eating dinner in the den on those nights. 

Dan was glad life continued to move on for them and he didn't gum up the works with his problems anymore. He'd even stopped his investigation of the kids Richie used to dream about. Of Derry and the whole  _ incident.  _ A lot of things compounded to bring him to the conclusion. Feeling like he was intruding the same way Rachel intruded on his past, looking for a name and finding a girl who'd died traumatically, and most unsettling- getting caught. Caught by another girl he visited- Beverly Marsh. She had seen Dan in her head, poking around and assumed he was a ghost. She saw a lot of ghosts. She did not, however, remember Richie or Derry. 

Wendy rushed down the stairs, and her knee bumped Dan, jarring him out of his train of thought. 

"Woah, Doc, I didn't see you there. Wanna help me with the candles?" 

Dan stood. "Sure thing, Mom." He said, following her into the kitchen. 

After all the candles were arranged and lit, Dan snuck into the party and turned off the lights, then held the door open for his mom. 

She walked into the room, starting to sing  _ Happy Birthday _ , and the party guests joined in with her. Richie grinned as everyone parted to let Wendy wall through the room to him. He held up his hands and moved them like he was conducting everyone's singing, until they finished, and he blew out the candles. 

"What did you wish for, Champ?" Wendy asked. 

Richie smiled at her and zipped his lips. "You know better than to ask  _ that!"  _

Wendy rolled her eyes and laughed. "Alright, alright. Let me get the plates and everything." She said, setting the cake down on the coffee table. 

Richie stared at the big red balloon that had been iced onto the cake. Wendy didn't really bake, so she probably bought it from the supermarket. He couldn't complain that it was too kiddie when she'd gone through the trouble to set up a party for him and all that while taking care of Lucy. 

Still, something in him didn't like looking at it. Something in him wanted to stick his fingers into the icing and smear that balloon to oblivion. But he was 15 today, and- his dad had read some Bible verse to him this morning that he'd already forgotten, but he knew the gist of it was "stop acting like a little kid". 

Richie's friend Will pushed his shoulder. "You're looking at it like you've never had cake before." 

"Shut up, Bubbles." Richie said, shoving him. He pretended to curl the end of a moustache. "I've partaken in many a pastry in the court of the queen." He said, in a horrible English accent. 

Will looked at their friend Mark who was standing across from them. "Marky Mark, is a cake even a pastry?" 

"How the hell should I know, Bubs?" Mark asked, with a shrug. 

"Isn't your favorite book the encyclopedia, Mork?" Richie asked.

"Nanoo nanoo." Bubbles agreed. 

"Oh my God, shut up." Mark said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, dumbass, encyclopedias come in volumes." 

"So?" Richie asked. 

"So… so you're an idiot!" Mark said, glaring at Richie.

Will laughed. "He's definitely got you there, Rich." 

"Watch out, here comes my mom with a giant knife!" Richie said, pointing behind Mark where Wendy had entered the room. 

Dan cocked his head. His mom was holding a butcher knife and it unsettled him. He followed behind her. "Where's the uh, cake server spatula thing?" 

"Oh, it's in the dishwasher, I think." She said, shrugging. Apparently it didn't bother her. It made Dan's head feel hot and foggy. 

Wendy grinned as she started to cut the cake. "Alright, kids, who wants some?" She asked, as the party goers started to crowd her. 

Dan tugged on Richie's sleeve gently, and Richie walked out of the group. 

"What's up, Dan?" Richie asked, a bit nervously. 

Dan didn't say anything and held a paper bag out to Richie.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows. "W-" he looked back up at Dan. 

"Happy Birthday." Dan said, nodding towards the bag. 

Richie glanced over his shoulder at the other people in the room.

"Can I- is this something I can open here?" 

Dan tried not to frown. "Yeah, man. Yeah it's- I just didn't have wrapping paper. It's nothing like-  _ bad."  _ he sighed. 

Richie took the bag and opened it. Three packs of Garbage Pail Kids cards, a Kit Kat bar, and two tickets to the movie  _ Army of Darkness.  _

Richie looked down at all of it, grinned, then threw his arms around Dan. "This is the best. Thank you, man." 

"I love you, Richie." 

Richie took a step back and smiled up at Dan. "I love you, too." 

Dan pointed at the movie tickets. "Don't feel like you have to take me, by the way. I got two so you could take Mark." 

Richie turned pink, and glanced at Mark, who was heatedly discussing something with a few other kids. 

Dan's stomach dropped. He felt like he'd just out and out told Richie that he knew. He felt awful. 

"Or-or like, Bubbles. Or a  _ girl."  _ He said, elbowing Richie. "Whoever you want, you know?"

Richie snapped back to look at him. 

"Y-yeah I uh, Madison Mitchell has been asking me to hang out on the weekend for a little while…" he said, looking down at the tickets. 

"Madison Mitchell? She's not even here, is she?" Dan asked, looking around. He dropped his head to whisper to Richie. "Do you even like her?" 

Richie shrugged. "She likes me though, that counts for something…" Richie looked up at Dan with big, confused eyes. "Right?" 

Dan chewed on his lip, feeling worse. Feeling like he'd cornered Richie into this decision. 

"Okay, I don't want to keep you from your party any longer but you know what? I do have a rule about the tickets." 

"What's that?" 

"You have to take someone you're going to have fun with." 

Richie nodded and smiled. "I-" he glanced back at his friends. "I'll see whether Bubbles or Mark can suck up to me better. Mark's dad has a pinball machine he never lets anyone play,  _ but _ Bubbles just got a Game Boy, and I've been itching to borrow it." He said, with a laugh. 

Dan gave Richie a noogie. "Hey, don't be an asshole to your friends, man!" 

Richie laughed as he wiggled out of Dan's grasp. "Hey, I'm just being my charming self! If you think I'm an asshole, that's  _ your  _ problem." 

Dan smirked. "Happy Birthday, kid." He said, turning to walk out of the room. Richie caught his shoulder. 

"Hey, Danny…" he whispered. 

Richie hadn't called him Danny in a while. Dan turned around, curious. 

Richie looked down at his shoes and seated slightly. "Can you cut the drinking for tonight? I uh- I want to hang out after the party." 

Dan felt like he'd been sucker punched. His face was absolutely still but his insides were screaming at him to cry. 

He cleared his throat, then cracked a little smile for Richie. "Yeah, Rich. I- Well, you know where I'll be, yeah?" 

Richie looked up at him slightly and smiled. "Thanks." 

"Get back to your party, kid!" Dan said pushing him back towards the other kids. "I think Bubbles is about to snort Pixie Stix." 

"Wha-" 

"Go on!" Dan said, leaving the room quickly. 

Dan walked as fast as he could. Major fuck up just then trying to divert Richie's attention, but… well, all things considered it probably wasn't the most unusual thing he'd ever said to Richie, or indeed his greatest  _ lucky intuition,  _ as Richie sometimes called it. 

Bubbles watched carefully as Wendy left, then gathered the other kids around him. He grabbed some Pixie Stix off the table and held them out in his hand, like a magician presenting cards. 

"Birthday Boy, come here and pick a flavor." 

Richie cocked an eyebrow, then stepped forward. 

"Grape." 

"Excellent choice!" Will said, discarding the rest and opening it. He poured a line of it onto his wrist. 

"Ladies, you're going to want to watch this one carefully." 

The room erupted into shrieks and laughter as he loudly snorted it up his nose. One girl, Sierra Gage, looked like she might faint. Another girl, Alice May, grabbed her and led her to the couch. 

"Why would you  _ do  _ that?" Alice yelled. 

"Because then it goes straight to my brain,  _ duh."  _ Bubbles said, smiling like an idiot. 

"Doesn't that hurt?" Richie asked, through giggles. 

"You're going to give yourself nosebleeds like that, Bubs!" Mark said, wagging his finger and trying to be serious, but he kept grinning and ruining it. 

The stairs creaked and all the kids scattered. Mark and Richie made sure there was no colored sugar on Bubbles' face, then snapped around, trying to look inconspicuous. 

"Hey, kids!" Lee said, with a big wave once he got to the bottom of the stairs. 

"Hi Mr. Tozier!" Mark said, enthusiastically. 

"Well, hey, Mark. Hey, where's the third stooge?" 

Richie and Mark looked at each other, then looked behind them. Bubbles was doubled over, coughing and laughing. 

"Oh, soda go down the wrong pipe, son?" Lee asked. 

Bubbles took in a wheezy breath and gave Lee a thumbs up. 

Lee laughed. "Alright, be more careful next time." He looked around and addressed the rest of the party. "You kids remember to brush your teeth well when you get home. If any of you show up in my office with a cavity, I'm docking Richie's allowance!" 

"Hey!" Richie protested. 

Lee walked over and wrapped an arm around him. "I'm just kidding, Champ." He said, missing his hair. 

"Come on kids, there's a surprise outside!" 

"Oh, did you get Richie his baby bounce house, Dr. Wentworth?" Alice asked. The girls giggled. 

"Actually, the bounce house is for  _ me,  _ girls." Lee said, chuckling at himself. Richie slapped a hand over his eyes. 

"Dad, if there's a bounce house I swear to G-"

Lee pushed Richie out the front door. Wendy was standing in the yard, holding up a shiny, red bicycle. 

Richie jumped excitedly. "Dad, are you serious?" He asked, rushing over to it. 

Lee smiled. "It was all Wendy's idea, Champ."

Richie wrapped his arms around Wendy and stood still for as long as he could to hug her. Then he had to let go and start bouncing around again, inspecting the bike. 

"I've never seen a 15 year old so excited about a bike…" Mark whispered to Bubbles. Bubbles elbowed him in the ribs. 

"Dude, you know his dad didn't let him have a bike 'cause of the whole…" Bubbles raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. 

"Oh, yeah."

By the time they looked back, Richie was already riding the bike around the yard, while Wendy chased after him with a helmet. 

"I don't have to beg Dan for rides anymore!" Richie sang, as he circled the bike around his friends. 

Lee caught the front of the bike and stopped Richie. 

"For Christ sake, listen to your mother and wear a helmet." 

"Oh, geez…" Richie rolled his eyes. "You never used to make me wear a helmet." 

"Yeah, well." Lee looked upset. "There were a lot of things I didn't-" he sighed, then made eye contact with Richie. "New bike, new rules, alright?" 

Richie nodded. 

Richie let everyone take turns trying the bike out as they waited for their parents to pick them up. Alice was the last kid there, as usual, and the sun was starting to go down by the time her father's pickup truck pulled up. 

"Great party." She said, getting off the bike and walking it back to Richie. "I'll see you at school on Monday, Tozier. Meet me by the big tree? I've got some filterless cigs." 

"Oh, I swear you're an angel." 

Alice tossed her short, blonde hair. "Angels don't steal cigarettes from their grandmother when she falls asleep!" 

"God, I just hope someday you learn to use your powers for good!" Richie said, laughing. 

Alice shrugged and turned. "We'll see. Bye, T!" She called, before she hopped into the pickup truck. 

Richie waved as they drove away. He turned to head inside and saw his father standing at the front door. 

Richie's ears turned red, worried his dad had heard about the cigarettes. Richie propped his bike by the door. 

"Uh…Dad, I-" 

Lee smiled. "Alice is a nice girl, huh?" He remarked, putting an arm around Richie's shoulders and ushering him inside. 

"Y-yeah." 

"You know, she's never had a cavity? Very responsible." He continued to smile down at Richie. 

Richie looked away. "Dad, why are you looking at me like that?" 

"Oh, c'mon, Champ, I'm not blind! You spend a lot of time with her. Are you going to ask her to the Spring Formal?" 

" _ Dad…"  _ Richie whined, shrugging out from under his arm. 

Wendy popped her head into the hall. 

"Don't embarrass him, Went! He'll ask her when he's ready!" 

"Aw, Wendy, I just want him to know-" Lee stopped and looked at Richie. "I just want you to know if you ever need any advice about girls, your Pop is here to give it to you, okay?" 

Richie turned red and sprinted to the basement door, letting it slam behind him. 

Lee sighed. "Gosh, were you that shy about the opposite gender when you were his age?" 

Wendy laughed a little and took a few steps into the hall, wrapping her arms around Lee. 

"Oh, absolutely. If my mother had said anything to me vaguely like what you just said to Richie, I think I would have combusted from embarrassment." 

"Well, what about Dan? Dan was going on dates by that age, wasn't he?" 

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Went, honey, Dan  _ still  _ doesn't go on dates. Don't worry, okay? I don't know what you're worried about anyway." 

"I'm just worried he doesn't know how to get along with people on a deeper level than… than being their clown, you know? I'm worried I did something wron-" 

Wendy cut him off with a small kiss. "Wentworth Tozier, you are a good father, and Richie is a good boy who loves very deeply and when he finds someone he wants to share that with, they're going to be very lucky." 

Lee smiled, and brushed Wendy's hair away from her cheek. "Thank you, sweetie." 

Richie stomped down the stairs as fast as he could. He weaved around boxes and the pool table until he got to the back of the basement, and pounded on Dan's door with urgency. 

Dan pulled the door open as fast as he could. "Where's the fire?" 

"In my  _ skull!"  _ Richie said, through gritted teeth. He pushed past Dan and flopped lifelessly onto his bed, face first. 

Dan sat in the corner of the bed. After a few moments, he poked at Richie's shoulder. Richie flipped over and gasped for air. 

"I'm never going back up stairs." 

"Simpsons is on tomorrow night." 

"I'll watch it down here." 

"Don't have a cable hookup, Rich." 

Richie glared at Dan. "I do not fucking understand why you'd move down here. There's one lightbulb. It looks like-" Richie sat up, moving his hands animatedly. "It looks like the fucking jail cell Robert de Niro was in in  _ Cape Fear! _ " He pointed to the corner of the room. "You've got the fucking stack of books and everything!" 

Dan shook his head, smiling. "It's just quieter down here, Rich." 

"Jesus Christ, you're telling  _ me.  _ My dad won't shut up about how I'm growing up and shit, I think he expects me to sign a lease or- get someone pregnant and get married or some shit. The way he looks at me and talks to me is all so fucking bizarre." 

"Well I-" Dan started. 

Richie huffed. "I know, I know. I'm an asshole. I should feel glad I'm lucky enough to still have my dad around and that he cares about my life and shit like that." 

"Well, I wasn't going to say-" 

"It's just weird. Everything is weird lately. It's… I mean there's Lucy, and so Mom is always exhausted, and then Dad is being all," Richie groaned and recoiles. "and then you, it's like you're on a different fucking  _ planet,  _ I never see you. And then there's my mom, she's going to have a fucking kid, did you know that? And this isn't  _ new  _ information, either! She's gonna pop the thing out in like a month, but nobody fucking told  _ me.  _ It's just like the wedding shit all over again." 

"Hey, Rich?" 

"Yeah, Doc?" 

"It's-" Dan thought for a second. Thought about what Richie was thinking. And Richie didn't want advice. And Richie didn't feel like Dan could understand him. Richie just wanted to spend time with Dan. He just wanted to have some fun, because it was his birthday, and he was mentally cursing himself for venting everything like that. 

"What, Dan?" 

"Did you know our house is haunted?" Dan asked, brightly. 

Richie sat up and his eyes widened. "Yeah? Did you find something out?" 

Suddenly, Dan got flashes that Richie had seen the old woman in the hallway, too. 

"I- yeah, the lady that lived here before us, she died in the… well, in the bathroom, I guess." 

"You guess?" 

Dan cleared his throat. "Yeah, the stuff at the library wasn't really spesific. But she broke her hip and-" 

"And she was stuck there and nobody knew." Richie finished, in a hushed voice. 

Dan gave Richie a puzzled look. "Yeah. Wh-" 

Richie snapped out of his haze and looked back at Dan. "I just remembered, I read the same article." He said, pushing his glasses up. 

Dan was a little impressed. Not by the lie itself, exactly. It was fine, it would have probably worked on someone else. But Richie was much calmer when lying than Dan himself was. Of course, Dan lived in a complex web of carefully orchestrated lies and ruses, but rarely were they challenged. And then, if he did need to lie his way out of it, he knew exactly what the other person did or didn't want to hear. 

"It's a good thing she didn't have any cats." Richie added. "I read about a similar thing, and this old guy had  _ three  _ cats, so you know, after he's been dead for a few days, they start to get really hungry, and they started  _ eating _ him."

"Oh,  _ ew!"  _ Dan exclaimed, pretending to laugh. He remembered his neighbor from the brief time he and his mother had lived in Florida. Same thing, but only one cat. He could still see her face clear as day, all scratched and clotted, staring blankly at the TV that had continued to play for five days. Of course, that was right after they moved in and Dan had been so scared of everything that he wasn't speaking. So she'd just sat there until someone finally realized she wasn't getting her mail. 

Richie had hopped off the bed and was looking through the stacks of things on Dan's desk and makeshift shelves. 

"Do you have any new tapes?" Richie turned on his heel and clapped his hands. "Oh, shit, do you have my stuff?" 

Dan's drinking had forced him into a moral low ground that meant his room was officially the hiding place for Richie's weed, and the sanctioned smoking room of the house. 

"I've got  _ Tourist Trap, Piranha,  _ and  _ Invasion of the Body Snatchers."  _

"I've already seen that one!" Richie protested, as Dan pulled a shoebox out from under his bed. He grabbed a cigarette out of it popped it into the corner of his mouth, lit it, then tossed the lighter to Richie, who started the ritual of lighting candles and incense. 

"No," Dan said, pointing at Richie with his cigarette. "You've seen the old one. They re-did it in the 70s. It's good shit." 

"Okay, I'm up for it, then!" Richie said, grabbing the shoebox from Dan. He sat on the beanbag that had been squashed into the corner of the room, and started his preparations. 

"You're not gonna get paranoid on me, are you?" Dan asked, as he pushed the tape into the VCR. 

Richie shrugged. "Maybe. Guess we'll fucking see."

The fact that Dan's bedroom didn't exactly  _ ventilate,  _ meant that he and Richie were absolutely blitzed and sweating by the time Leonard Nimoy appeared. 

"Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit." Richie kept saying to himself, pointing at the screen. 

Dan nodded. "Yeah, man." 

"And he thinks that other lady is just a fucking crybaby?"

Dan laughed. "Yeah." 

" _ Fuck,  _ dude. Spock is totally evil in this." 

"W- no he's not, he's just trying to be-"

"Logical?" Richie asked. 

They looked at each other in silence for a moment then both wheezed out smoke-filled laughs. 

When Danny was done laughing, and Richie was still chuckling up a storm, Danny threw a pillow at him. "You're gonna miss the fucking plot!" 

"I bet Lindsey Buckingham is an alien." 

" _ What _ ?"

"That one! The white guy with the 'fro and mustache!"

"Oh my  _ God _ , Richie, that's Donald Sutherland." 

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" 

"One: Yes. Two: Lindsay Buckingham doesn't even have big hair anymore. Three: Donald Sutherland is the dad of the Platinum blond vampire from that movie you like so fucking much." 

" _ That's  _ Kiefer Sutherland's  _ dad?"  _

"Dude, they look exactly the same." 

"They do not." 

"Oh my fuck the climax of this movie is going to mean absolutely nothing to you if you keep tal-  _ stop laughing at the word climax!"  _

Richie buried his face in the pillow Dan had thrown at him earlier to his his laughter. And to think about  _ Lost Boys _ . In the middle of his laughter, he suddenly got very paranoid that he'd say something about- 

Then he got paranoid that he already had. He couldn't really remember what they were talking about unless he thought  _ really  _ hard. 

He sat up. "Danny, what time is it?" 

Dan looked at his watch. "It's 10:36."

"Okay I'm gonna go to bed now." 

"Seriously?" Dan asked, sitting up. 

"Yeppers. Everyone else is asleep, I can pass out in bed eating leftover cake." He said, standing. 

"You're not getting all paranoid on me, are you?" Dan asked, though he sort of knew. 

"Mmm.  _ Hmmmm.  _ What's my middle name?" Richie asked, pointing at Dan. 

"Charles." 

"And why do I hate it?" 

"Because on Christmas Rachel and I had eggnog and started calling you Dick Chuck." 

Richie nodded. "Good, but I still have my eye on you, pod person." He said, backing out the door. 

Richie closed the door and leaned against it, taking in deep breaths of the cool, clean air.

" _ Fuck fuck fuckitty fuck _ ." He whispered, grabbing the can of air freshener off the pool table and giving himself a good once over with it. 

He ran his hand through his hair. "Richie Tozier, world's worst poser!" He sang quietly in a 60s crooner voice as he swirled around one of the beams and towards the stairs. "Someday, you're gonna make a fool of yourself." He continued as he skipped up the stairs. 

"And that'll be the end of you, Oh, that'll be the end of you." He finished. He took a bow at the top of the stairs. 

"And that was Dick Chuck," he said, in a smooth radio DJ voice, "with his first and last hit,  _ I Can't Keep A Secret."  _ He walked over to the fridge, grabbed a paper plate off the counter, then served himself some cake by grabbing a handful. 

"Tragically, Dick Chuck died of embarrassment shortly after his fifteenth birthday." He continued, then licked icing off his fingers. "Here's a message for all you kids out there," he said, with a smug, toothy smile and an eyebrow raise as he headed up to his bedroom. "Don't do drugs." 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Where is My Mind? by Yoav (I know it's a cover but I'm not going to lie to you about which version I was listening to just so you won't judge me. It's BEAUTIFUL.) 
> 
> Again, I had some big, bad, supersad stuff planned for this chapter, but it got filled up before I could really get into it, so I guess y'all got a little break! Hold onto your horses, though. 
> 
> ALSO: there are a few random references to things in this chapter as per usual, but two of them are spesific to It (1990). Whoever finds them first gets a prize! 
> 
> Also, also: if you recognize any of the other refs I'll give you accolades. 
> 
> Literally on my hands and knees begging for comments. I know it's unbecoming, but I spend a lot of time on this stuff (especially this chapter which had about seven drafts that are all completely different) and it's nice to see that work acknowledged. 
> 
> Lots of love from the gay king of listening to too much free Spotify while he writes, 
> 
> Jonesy "Kirby" Slug


	5. Head on The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie runs into some trouble on his way home from the movie theater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome back! Saving my rambling for the end notes. TW: Homophbia, Bullying/Violence, Vomit

Richie stopped pedaling and let his bike glide down the hill. Riding a bike made him feel so good, so free, so- 

He couldn't remember. But the general feeling was that it was good. Bicycles were good. They reminded him of summer and adventures and-  _ mental roadblock-  _ friendship. 

He grinned as Mark squeezed his shoulders tighter to steady himself. He was riding on the pegs and holding onto Richie like he was driving a motorcycle at top speed. 

"Mark!" Richie laughed, into the wind. "C'mon, calm down. This is fun!" 

He heard Mark snicker a bit. "Yeah, yeah it is, but I also don't want to break any bones, Tozier!" 

Richie laughed as he made the final turn towards Mark's cul-de-sac. Instead of skidding to an exciting stop and kicking dirt and gravel up everywhere, like he normally would have, Richie carefully slowed the bike to a stop in front of Mark's house. 

Mark hopped off the bike and stood for a moment, looking at Richie. His face was pink and his hair was windswept, and he was smiling. 

"Hey, I really appreciate you taking me to the movie, dude." 

Richie grinned. "Of course! You're like, Bruce Campbell's biggest fan. It would have been a crime to take anyone else." 

Mark paused, processing his response, and put his hand over Richie's on the handle bar. After a second of contact, he started patting it awkwardly. He made a face like he was thinking deeply about something, his head tilted and his eyes looking up. 

He stopped patting Richie's hand and let his arms swing at his sides. "You know, I was gonna say I'll take you to a movie soon but I-" he chuckled nervously. "I don't remember what the upcoming attractions are." 

Richie, whose heart was bouncing between his stomach and throat, managed to play it off very cooly. 

"I'll snip the listings out of the paper for you. Don't think I'm going to forget an offer like that, Evans! And don't think I forgot that I bought popcorn and soda for us, either!" 

Mark rolled his eyes. "Geez, I give you an inch and you want a fucking mile." 

"I only settle for the very best." 

"Yeah, I'll remember that next time you bring a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of Easy Cheese as your lunch." 

"Food of kings!" Richie declared, in a loud, English accented voice, with a flourish of his arm. 

They both laughed, and were cut off by Mark's mother calling for him from the door. 

Mark ventured one more pat on Richie's hand, as a farewell. "Bye, T!" 

"Bye, Mark." 

Richie watched Mark walk down his slanted yard to the front door. Mark turned and waved before going inside. 

Richie waved back wildly, with his whole arm stuck up in the air. 

He patted his pocket, to double check that he had his cigarettes, and grinned. He still had time before he had to be home. He'd take the long way and stop for a smoke and cap off a great afternoon.

He rode down the Evans' sloping driveway and across their back yard, into the woods beyond. The random patch of woods that hadn't been touched by developers made him feel so free and wild. This was  _ real  _ nature, not just a few plants in the backyard yard, neatly designated to their patches of dirt. 

Years upon years worth of dry leaves crunched underneath his bike wheels as he headed for his favorite spot, the split tree. 

One day, he and Mark had put a plank of wood on it and made a very crude see-saw that they jumped up and down on all afternoon, until the plank splintered in half. 

Richie rode parallel to the ditch. It started shallow near Mark's house and opened up into a huge pit in the middle of the woods. There was enough water in it now that it sounded like a babbling stream. 

He grinned as the split tree came into view. When he was nearly in the small clearing around it, he heard a loud snapping noise, and his bike halted, throwing him into the handle bars. Because of the angle he'd been trying to turn at, one of them jabbed his ribs and knocked the wind out of him. His glasses flew off his face and clattered to the ground. He was glad he had caught himself steady with his feet, but before he knew it, he was being shoved onto his side. 

It registered on the way to the ground that it wasn't the work of gravity alone, but that someone had pushed him. 

He hit the ground, thankful, for once, for the helmet. The tip of a heavy shoe kicked him in the spine. He coiled back, groaning. Someone was pulling his bike away from him. He couldn't see, but he heard the bell jangle as it was cast aside. 

A different shoe met his shoulder and kicked him onto his back. Someone was squatting above him, grinning. 

It was Peter Mullins.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

Richie closed his eyes and wished he was anywhere else. Anyone else. Having a nightmare. Anything but this, this fucking  _ death sentence.  _

Judging by the sound of laughter around him, it was Peter Mullins  _ and friends,  _ but with his glasses knocked off he couldn't really make out who anyone was for sure. 

Somewhere near his feet, he heard a loud crunch. 

"Aw, shit, were them  _ your  _ glasses, Dick?" One of the currently faceless toadies asked in a dumb yokel voice. 

"Fuck off!" Richie started to sit up, but Peter stomped his foot down onto Richie's shoulder. Richie cried out in pain. 

"Help! Somebody help!" He screamed. Was he in earshot of the Evans? That seemed like his only hope. "MARK! Mark, help me!"

"Aw, he's calling for his boyfriend. Isn't that cute?" 

Richie started to try and wiggle out from under Peter's foot, but the guy to his left stomped down on his wrist. The same fucking wrist Danny had bruised. The wrist that was psychosomatically in pain every time he smelled liquor, throbbing now, trying to push blood to his hand again. 

"It's real fuckin' cute." A deep voice said over him. 

"He's not my boyfriend!" Richie screamed. Panic was rising in his chest from all directions. 

"Aw, you're breaking my heart." Peter said, pinching Richie's cheek. 

"Stop it!" Richie screamed. "Get away from me!" He jerked his shoulders back and forth, trying to push Peter off. Peter dug his heel in harder. 

Peter knelt down by Richie's face. Richie could smell the beer on his breath. He flinched. 

"You know, I kinda wish your boyfriend  _ would _ come out and play. He always starts blubbering and shit. God, it's so funny…" 

Richie spat in Peter's face. 

Peter flinched, and wiped his face. "He's also smart enough not to pull shit like  _ that." _

The guy at the end, who he now had to guess was Todd Raines, because of the bright red blob on top of his head that must have been the Yankees cap he always wore, was laughing like a maniac. 

"Will you fucking stop that?" Peter roared. "Throw me your bottle!" 

"I'm not finished yet!" 

Peter stood. "Do I look like I give a fuck?" 

Peter caught the bottle Todd threw and held it up. Peter smashed the bottle against a tree with a loud crash. 

"You can't see too well down there without your specs, can ya?" 

Richie scowled. 

He leaned down and held the bottle close enough to Richie's face that he could make out every jagged, gleaming edge. Richie winced and turned his face away. 

Peter handed off the bottle to the guy stepping on Richie's wrist. He finally stepped off, and walked towards Todd. Richie raised his arm and let it fly blindly towards Peter, but Peter caught his wrist, and glowered down at him. "You don't know when to fucking stop, do you?" 

Peter pinned Richie's wrist down onto his chest. 

"We're gonna let Brax decide what to do since he's the most…" Peter hummed for a second, like he was thinking. " _ Creative."  _

Richie flailed as hard as he could, trying to get away. If he had even so much as heard that Braxton Anderson was in the neighborhood, he would have pedaled all the way to Castle Rock and stayed with his mother until the coast was clear. 

Braxton remained silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek in contemplation. Richie thought it must be like in the cartoons, when a wolf looks at a pig and suddenly sees a diagram of the best pieces to eat and where exactly to cut. 

Braxton swung the bottle in his hand by the neck, like a pendulum, as he thought. 

Richie's cold sweat seemed to be at freezing point by now. 

"Jesus, will you just do something already? Are you so fucking inbred and stupid that you can't figure out what to do with a damn broken bottle?" He screamed. The anticipation was too much. Any relief he'd gotten when Braxton stepped off his wrist was overshadowed. He just wanted this over with so they'd leave and he could limp over to Mark's house for some first aid and a call home. 

Braxton grunted angrily, bringing the bottle down sharply on Richie's knee, and scraping it down his shin. 

Richie screamed, then Peter clamped his hand over Richie's mouth so hard that he couldn't breathe. Hot tears streamed out of his eyes and he could feel blood rising to the surface of his torn skin. Richie tried to bite Peter's fingers, but ended up biting his own lips instead. 

He could feel his leg throbbing, from the cuts and the fall. Blood was rising on his leg and on his lip. He was swallowing it. He was going to be sick.

Finally, the weight of Peter's foot on his shoulder was gone.

But he didn't act fast enough. Couldn't get up fast enough. Couldn't run fast enough. Couldn't run  _ at all _ . Trying to put weight on his leg proved useless, and he fell again. Braxton scooped him up by his underarms and locked his fingers behind Richie's head. 

Richie's legs kicked out as he was lifted off the ground, pure instinct, but Braxton was not amused. 

"If you kick me, Tozier, I'm gonna break your fucking neck." He whispered. 

Richie, void of a reply, vomited violently onto the ground. 

"Oh, that's fucking  _ disgusting!"  _ Peter yelled. "It got on my fucking shoes." 

"What should we do?" Todd asked. 

Peter looked at Richie, then nodded at Braxton. "Toss him." 

"Wh-what?" Richie scrambled for purchase, tried to pry Braxton's fingers apart, tried to wiggle out of his grasp, all to no avail. He hit at Braxton's hands and arms as hard as he could, but it was like punching a brick wall. 

Braxton walked him over until his feet were dangling out over the steep incline of the ditch, just where it started to open up, wider and deeper. Huge, jagged rocks covered the bottom, all poking out of the lightly trickling water like sharks' fins. 

"You know, I sorta hope you land face up, Tozier." Peter said, thumping his fingers against Richie's helmet. "It'd be a shame if you drowned in such shallow water. You know, I can't think of a more embarrassing way to die." 

Braxton whispered something to Peter. 

"Nah. I don't want to watch his head smash open like a melon. Not today, anyway. Leave it on." 

Braxton grunted in acknowledgement. 

"Count of three. One-"

Braxton released his hold on Richie and there was a terrifying moment of falling through the air, wind rushing around him and knowing,  _ knowing  _ that the second it ended was going to be hell. 

Richie landed, his back mercifully finding a spot without a very large rock jutting up. There was no air left in his lungs. He felt like his ribs were collapsing. 

Before he could even catch his breath, Todd pushed his bike over the side of the ditch, and it clattered down on top of him. 

That seemed to fill his lungs with air, if only so he could scream. 

He was in so much pain, he was so dizzy and things were getting blurry beyond belief. Every labored breath he took seemed to be drawing his eyes shut. 

_ This is it. I'm dead. I can't keep my eyes open. I'm dead.  _

His thoughts played as factual observations with nothing existential or meaningful attached to them. There wasn't enough brain power for that. There was just enough for him to realize he couldn't pull himself from the brink of unconsciousness, and instead had to let it overtake him. 

_ I'm dead.  _

**_I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead._ **

Dan Torrance woke up screaming. 

He bolted out of bed, and up the stairs. 

"Mom!  _ Mom!"  _ He screamed. No answer. 

"Lee, are you home? Lee?" 

He ran upstairs towards the bedrooms and looked around. No one was home. 

"Shit!" 

He ran back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He flipped through the phone numbers in the little book hanging on the wall. 

_ Jessica Evans.  _

He dialed as fast as he could. He bounced anxiously as the phone rang. Three and a half, and someone finally answered. 

"Richie?" Someone asked, excitedly. 

"Wh- Mark?" Mark knew it was-  _ Caller ID, idiot, calm down.  _

"Oh, is that you, Dan?" Mark asked, sounding confused. "What's up?" 

"I guess Richie isn't at your house, then." Dan said, swallowing hard. 

"No, he dropped me off a while ago." 

_ Fuck.  _ Well, thank God Mark had answered. He was less likely to ask questions about this. Dan knew Mark's mind was already swimming with worst-case scenarios. His panic would overpower his reason. 

"Do me a favor, kid? Call an ambulance. Send them into the woods behind your house, okay?" 

Mark was crying. "O-okay." 

"I'm on my way over too, okay?"

"Get off the phone, Dan, I need to-" 

"Yeah, okay. Thank you." 

Dan slammed the phone into the cradle, grabbed his keys off the hook, and sprinted to his car. 

_ No cops, no cops, no cops… _ he tried to sort of scan for any as he drove to the Evans' house, but he was too focused on Richie. 

Richie was coming in super strong, and that was never a good thing. Whatever had spawned his ability was made of pure negativity, and was fed by it. Grew stronger with it. 

Dan's car skidded to a loud stop in front of the Evans' house, and Mark was sitting in their front stoop, crying. 

"Dan! Dan!" He called, as Dan ran down their front yard towards the back. 

Mark got up and ran after him. "Dan, what's going on?" 

"I don't-" Dan struggled with what to say, a bit annoyed at the intrusion, but also knowing Mark was scared shitless. "Did you call an ambulance?" 

"Yeah!" Mark said, sniffing loudly. 

"Mark, don't follow me right now, okay? Just wait for the ambulance and tell them where to go when they get here, okay?" 

Mark was still crying, and he looked angry, like he might talk back to Dan, but instead he just nodded and planted his feet. 

**_Kid's gonna come running this way as soon as the ambulance gets here._ **

**_I have bigger things to think about, Tony._ **

Dan ran, leaves crunching, and saw things in his head. Knew what directions to go to get to them. Big tree growing in two different directions. Mouth of the ditch opening up. 

He'd been down there before. When it was dry, kids sometimes had parties down there. 

And then he saw in his mind, all the dirty rainwater splashing over Richie's leg, taking little swirls of red into the current with it. 

He picked up his pace. 

When he finally got there, when he saw the real thing, Richie laying there, pale and unconscious, bleeding and splayed out like a ragdoll, he lost any composure he had left. 

He ran to the little plank of wood going from one side of the shallow part of the ditch to the other, where there was an easy place to climb down into the, well, it was a fucking ravine, wasn't it? But there was a place where the rocks were easy to walk down, and he landed with a little splash.

"Richie!" He screamed, as he ran to him. He fell to his knees by Richie's head. He looked all over him, looking at all the damage, seeing flashes of what those fucking bullies had done to him. 

Fear and rage bubbled up in Dan, and he stood, grabbing the bike and lifting it off of Richie. 

That bike was Richie's favorite thing. He could practically hear Richie yelling at him to be careful with it. 

He propped it up and went back to Richie's side. He pulled Richie's head and shoulders onto his lap, and took his helmet off. 

"Richie?" He swept his hair off his forehead. "Rich, please wake up. I'm freaking out, here." 

He looked at Richie carefully, but he didn't stir. 

Dan closed his eyes and started crying. "Come  _ on,  _ Richie. Please. Richie, I love you. Please wake up. I can't handle this, Richie. Richie…" 

There was a hand on his face. Cold, damp, and weak. 

"Dan?"

Dan panicked.  _ Ms. Massey. Ms. Massey. Ms. Massey!  _ He could only think of the dead, clammy hands around his neck. 

He opened his eyes, wide and panicked, and looked down. Richie's eyes were open just slightly. 

_ No flies. No deadflies. That's good.  _

**_That doesn't mean anything this early._ **

"Richie?" His heart was pounding. 

Richie's hand fell away from Dan's face, and he smiled weakly. "Danny. I knew you'd find me even if I died." 

"You didn't die though, Richie!" Dan said, more for himself than anything. "You didn't die, you're going to be okay." 

Dan finally registered that the sirens he was hearing weren't manifestations of panic in his mind, but a sign that real, actual help was on the way. He heard leaves crunching as someone ran. 

"This way!" 

A few seconds later, Mark appeared leaning over the mouth of the ravine.

"Richie!" He screamed. 

Richie gave a weak thumbs up. 

Mark, usually careful, usually an over-thinker, charged down the steep slope of the side, and ran over to Richie. 

"What the fuck happened?" Mark screamed. 

"Braxton." 

"Fuck." 

Dan looked up at Mark. "Who's Braxton?" 

"He's Peter Mullins' cousin. He doesn't go to school with us because he got expelled!" Mark screamed, as he examined the damage on Richie. His face went white as a sheet when he was looking at the cuts on Richie's leg. 

"His mom had to move him to another county and then he uh," Mark tore his panicked eyes away from Richie's leg and glued themselves onto Dan's eyes. "He fucking got expelled again. He works in a factory now or something." 

Dan doubted the validity of that entire story, but now was not the time to question it. 

"He's a grade-A  _ maniac!"  _ Mark said, throwing his arms into the air. He started to pace. "Where the fuck did the EMTs go?" He groaned, looking up. 

A small woman and a chubby man were struggling to make their way down, with their kits in tow. 

They finally got to the bottom and splashed their way over. 

"Kids, move back!" The man said. 

Dan put Richie's head down gently and stood up, backing away, but Mark apparently did not want to play that game. 

"Hurry up, he's gonna bleed out! Why'd you take your sweet time getting down here, huh?" He yelled. "Every second is crucial, it could be the difference between life or death!" 

Mark's face got redder with every syllable as he yelled. 

The woman looked at Danny and jerked her head towards Mark. 

"Can you get him out of here?" 

Dan nodded, walking over and grabbing Mark by the shoulders. 

"Okay, come on, buddy. Let's go take a breather…" 

Mark wouldn't budge. "No, I'm not gonna leave Richie down here with these negligent-" 

Dan sighed, and picked Mark up. 

"Put me down, asshole!" 

"You're the one that said every second was crucial, and you're not letting the fucking paramedics work!" Dan carried Mark over to some dry rocks, and sat him down on one. 

Mark crossed his arms. "I can  _ walk,  _ you know." 

Dan rolled his eyes and sat next to him. 

"Eh, be glad I didn't carry you all the way back to you mom." 

Mark glared at Dan for a second, but didn't say anything. 

Dan stared out at the paramedics and wondered how they were going to get Richie out of the ditch if they'd had so much trouble getting down in the first place. Surely, though, they had some kind of protocol for this? He didn't know. He wanted to check them, to see what they were thinking, how Richie was, but he heard Mark sniffling beside him. 

He looked down at him. Mark was staring at the ground, his eyes wide and terrified, his face red and tear-streaked. 

Dan rolled his eyes at himself. He put an arm around Mark's shoulders. 

"He's going to be okay, Mark." 

"How do you know that?" Mark asked, with a bitter edge.

"I knew he was in trouble, didn't I?"

Mark looked up at him and blinked. "Y-yeah. How did you, anyw-" 

Dan tapped the side of his nose. "I have older brother intuition." 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mark asked. His lip was still trembling. "What the hell does that even mean?" 

"Just trust me, okay, Mark?" Dan asked, with a sigh. 

Mark furrowed his brows, staring at Dan. Dan  _ had  _ known, before he even got there… maybe there was something to it. Mark felt like he was being talked down to, but there was  _ something.  _

"Yeah. Okay." He said, with a nod. 

Soon enough, Dan was climbing in the back of the ambulance to ride to the hospital with Richie. He practically had to shove Mark off the back and tell him to go inside, he'd call him when Richie was ready for visitors. 

Mark stood in his yard until the sirens completely faded before he even  _ thought  _ about going inside. When he finally turned and faced his house, he realized he was all wet and muddy. He even had some of Richie's blood on the cuffs of his khakis. 

He was not excited about the third degree he was about to get from his parents. 

In the ambulance, Richie reached his arm out towards Dan. Dan took his hand. 

**_Don't let me die, Dan. Hold my hand and don't let me fall asleep again._ **

Dan blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. He leaned forward. "You're not gonna die if you fall asleep, Rich. Sleep is good." 

Richie shook his head, but Dan nodded at him. "I'm right, Richie. You're gonna be okay." 

Richie's eyebrows drew together with worry, but he closed his eyes. 

When they got to the hospital, Dan went and found a phone to leave a message back home, since he'd forgotten to write a note. 

Someone picked up the phone halfway through the first ring. 

"Hello?" Lee panted, sounding panicked. 

"Lee." 

Lee let out a sigh of relief. "Dan! Wendy, it's Dan!" He yelled. 

Wendy picked up the phone in the bedroom. 

"Danny, where are you? Where's Richie?" 

"We're uh…" Dan sniffed. "We're at the hospital." 

Dan heard Wendy gasp and knew she was crying. That set him off, too. "He had an accident on his way home. I don't-" Dan pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I think he just needs some stitches but I don't really know…" 

"Stay right where you are, Dan. We're on our way down there." Lee said, hanging up. 

But there was no dial tone. Wendy was still on the line. "Doc…" she whispered.

"He's gonna be alright but it looks bad, mom. So just be prepared for that, okay?" 

Wendy murmured an affirmation. 

"I love you, mom."

"I love you too, sweetie." 

Dan hung up and dug through his pockets for another quarter. Something else occurred to him. 

After a few rings, someone picked up. "Hello, Jessica Evans speaking." She said, tersely. 

"Hello, Mrs. Evans, this is Dan Tor- uh, Dan Tozier, Richie's brother. May I please speak to Mark?" 

"Oh… goodness. Yes, you- is he alright?" She asked, her voice softening. 

"He will be." 

Jessica called for Mark and Dan could hear him running across the tile floor to get to the phone. 

"Dan, what is it?" 

"Hey, I need a favor. For Richie."

"Yeah! What is it?" 

"Can you and your dad go down to the ditch and get his bike?" Dan let out an uneasy laugh. "He'll be pissed at me if he finds out I left it down there." 

"Of course. Can I come visit yet?" Mark asked. "You said you'd call when I could visit." 

_ God, he's pedantic… _

"Not yet. I promise I'll call you as soon as you can come though, okay? Bye, Mark! Thank you!" Dan said, hanging up before Mark could reply. 

Dan sat down in the waiting room, cold, damp, and uncomfortable. He thought sitting there and waiting would probably stretch out for eons. He dreaded it. 

He was asleep before he could even get bored enough to pick up a magazine. 

Hours later, Wendy shook his shoulder gently. 

"Doc, sweetie…" 

"Mom?" He glanced around. The waiting room was nearly empty and the sun had gone down. 

"Did you just get here?" He asked, still shaking off the confusion of sleep. 

"No, sweetie, we've been here a while, but I didn't want to wake you up. We have to go home now, though. It's time to put Lucy down for the night." 

Dan rose slowly. "What about Richie, we can't j-" 

"His dad is staying with him. You need to go home and get a bath and some good sleep. You've got school tomorrow." She said, stroking his cheek. 

Dan nodded. 

They walked out of the hospital hand in hand.

"They said he was in the woods?" Wendy asked quietly. 

"Yeah." 

"Sometimes I feel so upset that… that you have to deal with so much." She said, stopping in front of the car and brushing his hair back. "I know it must be such a burden." She said, welling up. "But thank God, you knew. Dan, I don't know what would have happened if you didn't-" 

"And you never have to know." 

Wendy nodded and smiled. 

Dan took Lucy from her arms, kissed her gently on the head, then carefully secured her in her car seat. 

"Oh, does Lee need my key-" 

"He already has them." Wendy said. She laughed a little bit. "You were  _ really  _ asleep, Doc. I didn't think anyone would ever be able to pickpocket you." 

Dan laughed, and it melted into a yawn. 

He dozed off on the ride home. 

When they got home, he helped his Mom put Lucy to sleep, then took a shower. 

As he was headed down stairs to go to bed, he heard his mother crying in her room. 

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open. 

"Mom?" 

He ran over to her and hugged her. He held her until she stopped crying, and she was breathing regularly again. The house, which always felt so big around them, had melted down to a point. This was all that existed. It was just them, like in the apartment in Florida. 

Wendy didn't even have to ask. Dan tucked her into bed, then climbed in on the other side and grabbed her hand. 

They had slept like this a lot when he was little. Tonight, neither of them wanted to be alone. Tonight, both of them were scared, again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big, big, BIG thanks to Rand, once again, for helping me with this chapter, I hope you like the finished product! Borrowing a tradition from Rand, I do have a song for this chapter (not the song it's named after, surprisingly): https://youtu.be/mGFMvEkWbzQ
> 
> EDIT: changed the title because uh, I remembered it was supposed to relate to last chapter's title. Now it's lyrics from Where is My Mind? 
> 
> Only three separate drafts this time instead of six! We're streamlining, people! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Tell me how things are going, leave a message at the beep! And keep an eye out for updates on the other fic in this series: "Meanwhile" because I have a lot of exciting stuff planned for that. 
> 
> Love ya all! 💖


	6. Man In The Box (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan finally graduates high school, but problems don't just disappear over night. If anything, being out of high school might create more problems, like a run in with a certain roving band of RV dwellers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some would say I've lost my mind,  
> Brother try and hope to find,  
> You were always so far away,  
> I know that pain,  
> So don't you run away,  
> Like you used to do
> 
> \- Brother, Alice In Chains
> 
> [Edit: added the rich text breaks that disappeared]

Dan shifted from foot to foot, playing with the hem of his sleeve. The fabric of the graduation robes was strange. It felt cheap, but not in the same way Halloween costumes did. A thick, almost plastic, fancy cheap. Like the garment equivalent of a silver plastic fork. 

Dan had been waiting a while, because T-O-R was fairly far down on the list, alphabetically, but all that had given him time to do was sweat and worry that people would see him cross the stage and somehow _everyone_ would know his hangover was still lingering. Everyone would see it. Maybe because he winced ever so slightly every time there was applause or slight feedback from the microphone. Maybe it was present in the way he walked and carried himself. He was sure it was radiating off of him like phosphorescence off a viperfish. Imagine the scandal. Graduating with honors didn’t necessarily erase graduating with a hangover.

He glanced into the audience, thinking he'd see Wendy and Lee grimacing. But they were both smiling. Wendy even had a few tears on her face. Baby Lucy was surprisingly happy and quiet, even. 

And then he looked at Richie. He didn't want to, because Richie actually really knew he'd been drinking the night before. But Richie was fine. Richie was smiling. 

Just not at him. 

Richie was smiling as Mark whispered something in his ear. Dan was happy, not for the first time, but maybe for the most convenient time, that Richie's emotions could surge out to him, because the happiness he was feeling had a power in it that could make Dan's knees stop shaking with anxiety. 

Mark's mother hit him gently on the knee to stop him from whispering, but that just amused the boys, and they looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes while trying to stifle their laughter. 

Dan was glad Richie had Mark. Dan was worried about leaving for college in the fall, about leaving Richie alone. The way Richie had missed Rachel when she left… Dan didn't think it would be to the same degree, considering…

**_Considering what you've been doing to him and his heart by drinking?_ **

**_No, considering that I'm his step brother and he hasn't known me as long. Leave me alone._ **

He wondered a bit, how things would work out with just Richie and the baby. If there would be enough attention left over for Richie. But Dan knew Lee would realize this, having had multiple children at the same time before. And Wendy, who was empathetic and thoughtful, was highly likely to realize as well and adjust to be able to spend time with Richie. There was nothing to worry about. 

And even if things didn't go great, there was the thought that led to all this. There was Mark. Mark had visited Richie in the hospital every day while he was there, bringing him candy and comic books and mixtapes. He'd even let Richie borrow the Game Boy that he'd borrowed from Will, insisting that distraction was the best way to put mind over matter and convalesce. 

Dan and Richie had gotten really good at Tetris because of that. Dan smiled. At least he wasn't leaving Richie with only bad memories… that was something. And he wasn't leaving forever, for good, for whatever. He wasn't going somewhere no one could see him. He wasn't even going that fucking far. It wasn't like he was going to prison. And even then, prisoners’ had visitors. 

Besides that, there was summer. His last real _kid_ summer, and he was going to make the most of it. He was going to ride bikes with Richie and drive him wherever he wanted to go and he was going to go to parties and go to the lake with a girl and all that fucking stuff he'd been sitting back and watching his classmates do every summer. 

In fact, there were a few parties happening tonight. Of course. There were always big ragers after graduation. He'd been to one briefly the year before, but gotten overwhelmed before he could properly enjoy it. He hadn't liked being around all that alcohol. 

**_Not a problem anymore, huh, Danny?_ **

**_I told you to leave me alone._ **

**_We're stuck together._ **

"Daniel Tor-" 

He hardly registered it, but his legs were moving. 

_Torrance._ When they said his name, there was something like an electric shock moving through the room. A microwave, or some other radioactive thing that only he could detect. _Torrance._ Most of the parents and even some of the kids remembered that name. _Is he_ that _Torrance? Hadn't that kid's name been Daniel? Oh, poor thing. Even if he isn't, doesn't he look nervous? Oh, it must be him._

Dan grabbed his diploma and shook hands with the principal, then rushed to the risers to join the other students, incredibly happy to be able to sit and be forgotten. 

At least three people kept thinking about the fire at the Overlook and the various, unconfirmed theories about how Dan, Wendy, and Dick had gotten their scars and made it out alive. Somehow, it was a relief to hear the doubt in someone's mind that Jack had been a hero, the way the paper had said. 

But on the same note, it hurt to be thinking about at all. He was grinding his teeth. He didn't even notice that he was rocking until the girl beside him, Kristine Toller, put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"Daniel…" she whispered. Dan looked up at her and blinked. He wasn't used to anyone but teachers calling him Daniel. Kristine had been in a few of his classes. Had they really not had a conversation long enough for Dan to introduce himself? Had they never been so much as lab partners? Or was he too fucking shy around people either way? No, he wasn’t _shy._ He was just a little quiet, right? That’s what people said? He couldn't remember. Everything was blurry behind the curtain of Overlook memories flooding back in scraps and the steady twinge of his hangover and the alcohol that clouded most of the spring semester. 

"Daniel?" She said, again, bothered and worried more now, because he'd just been staring at her for a long moment. Kristine. Did people call her Kris? He had no idea. He could find out if he wanted to. He was going to abide by the precedent she'd set. 

"Sorry, Kristine. I'm okay. I just get a little… nauseous when I'm nervous." 

Kristine made a face, but corrected herself. "I have some mints, if that'll help?" She whispered, cutting her eyes towards the principal, then her parents in the audience, to make sure they weren't disrupting the ceremony. 

Dan nodded and Kristine reached for a small wicker purse and pulled out a spearmint starlight. Dan grinned. 

"Oh, uh, I guess it's probably a little late, but I go by Dan. Thanks for the mint." 

Kristine smiled at him. "It's okay. I go by Kris." Her lips were glossy- _Pepsi Bonne Bell-_ Dan smirked about that as he put the mint in his mouth. 

"Are you going to be at the party tonight?" She asked. 

Dan lifted an eyebrow playfully. "Which one?" 

"You haven't picked one?" 

Dan looked to the side and blushed a little. He hated the way what he was going to say would sound in his ears, but he knew it would work. "Well, tell me which one you're going to, and I'll have made up my mind." 

Kris covered her mouth with her hand to giggle, but Dan could still see her dimples. He wasn't thinking about The Overlook any more, or listening to anyone who was. 

* * *

Richie undid his tie the second they stepped outside the doors of the school. Mark laughed and shed his blazer, tossing it at Richie's head. Further back, Jessica was trying to scold him not to be so careless with his nice clothes, and he pretended not to hear her, all at the same time, grabbing his blazer off Richie's head and draping it carefully over his arm. Richie chucked his tie at Mark's head and limped in the other direction. 

The tie didn't quite make it all the way to Mark. It landed in a wad at his feet. He picked it up and chased after Richie, laughing wildly. 

Mark's older sister, Mary Leigh, was looking back at them over her shoulder as she walked out next to Dan. 

Mary Leigh's red hair was glowing in the sunset light. She made eye contact with Dan, then looked away bashfully. 

Dan smirked. He and Mary Leigh had met a handful of times, even spent a bit of time together, and she still got shy around him. Dan thought it was cute. He'd known for a long time that she thought he was cute, and he thought the same of her, but… well, all things considered, he had decided not to make a move, and knew she'd never initiate. 

Still, it was fun to flirt… 

"Hey, are you going to a party tonight?" 

Mary Leigh looked over her other shoulder to her parents, who were talking to Lee and Wendy. She shrugged. 

"Don't know if I'm allowed." 

"Really? But it's graduation night! You should get to celebrate surviving high school!" 

Dan looked back at the cluster of parents. He knew the Evans were a bit strict. Religious types. But, he also knew that they implicitly trusted the Toziers, whom he belonged to, though not formally in name. 

"What if you had someone escort you?" He asked. 

Mary Leigh's cheeks went pink. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Yeah?" She let out a self conscious giggle. "Who would I go with, though?" 

Her eyes had a hopeful glint. Her eyes… they were hazel, but she was a firm believer that they changed between green and brown whenever they saw fit. Dan was always tempted to explain rods and cones and color theory to her, but… it seemed sort of cruel. If she could believe in something so innocent as her eyes changing with the seasons still, he wasn't going to take that away. 

Dan tried to match her bashful and self conscious energy, to put her at ease. "Well, I've got a car…" he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

She grinned, putting her large teeth, her biggest insecurity, fully on display. 

That was cute. She was absolutely ga-ga for him. She hadn't even smiled for her senior portrait. 

"You wanna go with… _me_?" 

"I'd be uh, really honored." 

Mary Leigh bounced on her toes. "Okay! Okay, yeah. Yeah, that'd be really fun! I'm gonna…" she backed away from him, not taking her eyes off him or letting her smile falter. "I'm gonna go ask." She said, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.

Dan nodded and she turned finally, to practically run over to her parents. 

Mark and Richie darted past him. 

"Hey, jerks!" Dan called, in his best New York accent, which Richie had been coaching him on. "I'm walkin' here!" 

Richie skidded to a stop, then turned to run back towards Dan. Mark followed. Dan knew Richie wasn't in too much pain, or at least didn't care, but he still almost winced every time he saw Richie take a step with his boot on. 

"Hey, sorry, Dan-o." Richie threw his arm around Dan's shoulder. Richie was taller than him and did not miss a chance to remind him. 

"How does it feel to be a free man?" Richie asked, jostling Dan's shoulders and giving him a noogie. 

"Hey, hey, I'm the older brother!" Dan protested, swatting at Richie's hand. When he stopped, Dan fixed his hair, then let out a relieved sigh. "Feels nice. Monday is just going to exist for 24 hours, like it's a Saturday. It's insane." 

"We're all on summer break, dingus." Mark said, rolling his eyes. Mark was a good few inches shorter than Dan. When he and Richie stood side by side, it was fairly amusing. Dan remembered picking Mark up like a sack of potatoes a few months before and suppressed a laugh. 

"Dingus." Richie said, shaking his head at Mark. "You need better insults, Choir Boy." 

Mary Leigh came running back, hiding her hands behind her back because she was excited and that meant she'd be more animated when she spoke if she didn't do something about it. 

"Mom and Dad said yes!" She said, her voice rising. 

"Said yes to what?" Mark piped up. 

"Dan here is going to take me to the party tonight." Mary Leigh said, with a bright smile. 

A look passed between Mark and Richie, and then each of them looked at their respective sibling. 

"Really?" They asked in unison. 

"Yeah!" Mary Leigh said, excitedly. 

"Yeah…" Dan said, looking up at Richie and realizing that there were possible consequences of this date for him. 

Richie looked away quickly. "Cool!" He said, a grin plastered onto his face. "Does that mean you guys can sneak us in?" He asked, elbowing Dan. 

Dan was about to agree to it, thinking it was probably a good peace offering, but Mary Leigh answered for him.

"It's a graduation party! Upper classmen only, Richie!" She giggled. 

Mark internally grumbled something about her magic passive aggression, and Dan was starting to get nervous. It had seemed to jump out of nowhere. He'd never seen her act like that before. The air was stiff and awkward as she smiled at them. 

"Hey, well…" Dan said, stepping away from Richie. "We're probably going to be out late." He said, as he stepped towards Mary Leigh. He put his arm around her waist and Richie and Mark tried not to flinch. "We're going to be out pretty late. You guys can watch tapes in my room tonight, if you want." 

Richie's eyebrows disappeared behind the hair hanging in his face. "Seriously?" 

"Yeah, Champ. Go for it." 

Mark grinned up at Richie, and Richie beamed down at him. 

"Dude, I can bring the Super Nintendo." Mark said, excitedly. 

"Oh, fuck, I still haven't finished beating your ass at Punch Out!" 

"Does he always curse that much?" Mary Leigh whispered to Dan. 

"I uh-" she seemed more Catholic than ever, right now, in this moment, and Dan's ideas of having a good night out were starting to falter. "what can I say? He talks like that when he's excited." 

Mary Leigh hummed and looked Richie over in judgement. Dan could practically see her, ten years from now, in a painstakingly chosen Easter dress, her children and husband dressed up to match. 

Dan was very glad his intentions were to be nothing more than a smudge at the end of her school record. 

**_Your mother would be so proud, Danny Boy._ **

**_Tony, I don't have anything left to say to you._ **

* * *

  
  


Mark didn't like weed, and Richie was fine with that. Mark had done a one-hitter while cutting PE with him and Alice once, and all that rule breaking had been too much for him to handle at once. He had panicked, paranoid that somehow everyone _knew_ and he was going to be in deep shit, and then he'd gotten sick. 

He never touched the stuff again, and Richie didn't mind at all. Richie didn't even think about smoking when he was with Mark. Nothing needed dulling down or enhancing when it was just the two of them. Everything was perfect. 

He could swear, as he sat there, smashing the buttons on the controller, that he could _hear_ Mark's emotions. He didn't feel them the way he'd feel his own, or hear them in words like thoughts, but he could get a sense of them. Like they were standing just at the corners of his vision. 

Happy. Confused. Excited. Scared. Amazing. 

_Yeah, that checks out…_ Richie thought. It lined up with his own feelings pretty much beat for beat. 

So why were they acting like everything was… just still and normal? They both knew it wasn't. They were alone. Alone, really, honestly, alone, for the first time since- 

Richie stopped pressing buttons. Mark didn't even realize until a few seconds after he'd started celebrating his victory. 

His smile fell. "Hey, what's going on?" 

Richie didn't look at him. "I want to say something to you, and I'm worried about it. Like…" Richie took off his glasses. "What if I say something really stupid and you hate me?" 

Mark gave him a little smile. "Honestly, Richie? I've done the math, in my head. You'd have to do a _lot_ for me to hate you. Like, purposefully kill my dog. And I don't even have a dog." He laughed. 

Richie wanted to laugh, too, but he couldn’t. He just took a halting breath. 

"Hey, what-" Mark started, reaching for Richie's shoulder. 

Richie wasn't crying. He felt like he would, but he wasn't. Soon, all emotion was swallowed up by fear, because his trashmouth, his traitor mouth, was going off without permission, as usual. 

"I want to kiss you again." 

Mark stared at him. 

Richie waited. Waited for everything to fall apart. He yanked his glasses off to wipe at his eyes. Why was he just waiting for everything to go to pieces? Mark hadn't gotten upset the first time they kissed. 

But Richie had to assume that, much like him, in the hours and days following, there was plenty of time to worry and panic. Especially with Mark's family being the way they were.

Richie had felt the kiss, so awkward and so beautiful, seared onto his face for the next three days at _least._ It felt like a visible mark on his face, _Mark Evans Was Here_ written across his lips. 

But no one had noticed. No one had said anything. 

"Then… why haven't you?" Mark asked, quietly. 

Richie shoved his glasses back on so he could see Mark's expression. 

"Am I allowed to?" Richie asked, and Mark knew what he meant. He meant something beyond the two of them. He thought of the sign hanging above the television at his grandmother's house. _Would God watch this with you?_

Mark didn't think God would watch TV at all. Surely, if you looked hard enough, you could even find something objectionable about the family-friendly game shows his grandmother watched. 

Maybe gambling. You could call it gambling. 

He blinked. "I don't care." 

He couldn't believe he'd said it. All the damn time, he felt like he was carrying the entire history of the Catholic church on his back, all the time he felt the unfriendly, watchful eye of God judging him. 

But here, in this little room in the dark, where the shag carpet smelled like drugs and there was alcohol hidden in the ceiling tiles and there was- there was the boy he cared about the most in the world… 

Here was all there was, for now. He thought of a song. A love song. A stupid love song by a fake band on a sitcom his mom liked, but whenever she played the album, he always listened. 

_Yes I know / That someday / The Lord will look our way / And we'll be free_

"Can I kiss you, now?" Mark asked. 

The sudden noise in the silence, the silence that had let him pick through his errant thoughts, the silence that had let Richie sink into the realization that his secret desire was a mutual want that was feasible, that could _happen,_ made Richie sort of jump. 

Richie nodded. The kiss was sort of stiff and awkward for a few seconds, but Richie's heart was still in his throat. He thought about people on TV and in movies and tried to do what they did. Then it got harder to kiss, because Mark was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Richie started smiling, too, and they fell away from each other, laughing. 

"We're really bad at that!" Mark declared, gleefully. 

Richie nodded in agreement, trying to catch his breath. 

"I guess we'll get better eventually." Mark said, grabbing Riche's hand. 

Richie squeezed his hand, like he didn't believe he was real. Mark squeezed back. 

"That hurts, dickwad!" Richie said, still chuckling. 

"You started it, fuck face!" 

* * *

  
  


Avi was about 15 when he joined the True Knot. It'd been a while since they'd had a proper meal, so he was looking on the edge of 20, now. He could pass for a high school senior, or at least a friend of one. His cover was something about knowing someone or knowing someone who knew someone, and having been the one to bring the keg. 

Which he did. That was easy, that was no problem. That night, he learned that if you show up with a keg to a high school party, no one really cares _who_ told you about the party. 

The True didn't like to visit this part of the country. It was sparse, but not in the way they liked. They preferred big, open spaces. Midwestern existentialism. Maine was too fucking small. You couldn't find a place to be alone, even when you wandered out somewhere over-run with nature, somewhere that rightly should have belonged to the night creatures. 

One of the other members of the True had said maybe you couldn't be alone there _because_ of the night creatures. She said Maine was full of them. Stuff that fed off things much more raw than steam. 

Rose hadn't shushed her or said anything to the contrary, and that bothered Avi. 

What bothered him more was chasing such a flimsy lead. Rose, Crow, and a few others had picked up on something here. Something faint, or, and this was the hope, a _few_ somethings. 

_The more the merrier, especially if they're weak._

Avi was the obvious choice as party buster, not just because of his apparent age, but because he was a pusher. That meant the whole Knot wouldn't have to concentrate their waning power just on convincing some poor kid to follow Avi into the woods. 

Avi honestly wondered if any of that would be necessary anyway. Everyone was desperate, there was no margin for error, but… drunk kids were drunk kids, and drunk kids made dumb choices. 

**_Spot anything, Avi?_ **

**_Not yet, Rose. I think one is close._ **

Avi sniffed the night air and knew he was headed in the right direction. 

He had to find _something_ tonight. Even if it wasn't much. Rose had caught wind of something bigger in Oregon, but since they had already been on the east coast by the time it hit her radar, they'd need something to tide them over. 

An _amuse-bouche_ , Rose had called it. A few people had laughed. Avi didn't get it. Apparently, it meant appetizer. 

* * *

  
  


"Hey, Kris!" Dan said, with a big grin and a wave, when he and Mary Leigh walked into the party. 

Kris smiled at him, then a flicker of confusion ran over her face when she saw Mary Leigh holding onto his arm. 

"Uh, what's up, Dan?" She asked, trying to sound casual. "Hey, Mary." She added, with a little wave. 

"Hi, Kristine." Mary said, sounding friendly enough, but in her head, she was screaming- 

**_My name is Mary_ ** **Leigh,** **_you twit!_ **

Dan cut his eyes, to look out at the rest of the party-goers, because Kris was screaming in her own head too. 

**_I've never seen them together before, are they dating? I thought he was flirting with me earlier. Idiot. Why do I always do this-_ **

"Hey, Kris?" Dan said, eyeing the plastic cup in her hand. "Where are the drinks?" 

"Oh, they're in the kitchen, I can show you." 

"Yeah, that'd be great." He shrugged his arm out of Mary Leigh's grasp. "Do you want anything?" 

Mary Leigh looked at him. She pursed her lips, trying to decide what to say. Ask for a beer? A mixed drink? Did she know any cocktail names?  
  
She chickened out. "Diet Coke?" 

"I'll see what I can do!" Dan said, with a smile, and turned to follow Kris. 

When they got to the kitchen, Kris handed him a beer from a big cooler on the floor. 

"I think the soda is with the chasers." She said, pointing at the counter. 

"Thanks." 

Kris hummed as he poured a drink for Mary Leigh. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Dan." 

Dan almost laughed out loud. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't know I went by Dan until-" 

Kris' heart sank, and Dan felt awful. 

He turned and looked at her. "I don't have a girlfriend, Kris." He said, with a little reassuring smirk.

"Then why was Mary holding onto your arm like that?" 

Dan shrugged. "Well… you've seen how she dresses. She thinks it's the 50s or something. I offered to give her a ride, and I guess she thought I was offering to be her official escort. Like she's a debutante coming out." 

Kris laughed. "Yeah, she's pretty old fashioned, isn't she? Oh, you poor thing." Kris giggled and her pink cheeks looked nice in the dim Christmas lights. 

  
  


Dan felt a little sick about talking about Mary Leigh like that, and at the same time… well, it made Kris feel better, and it wasn't like Mary Leigh had heard him or would ever know he said that. 

He felt a bit like an understudy juggler who had lied on his resume, being pushed out into the big top to do a show and having to guess at what exactly he was doing.

_Haven't dropped anything, yet, though…_

"Well, you know, her parents wouldn't let her come to the party at all without like-" Dan sputtered for a second. "I don't know? I guess I'm not a chaperone, but do you know what I mean?" 

Kris rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, they seem really strict. Like, I live next to the Catholic church, you know? They're _always_ there. Like, multiple nights a week. What is there even to _do_ at church that often?" 

Dan shrugged. 

Kris shrugged back. "Like, I'd say confession, but I don't think they leave church long enough to sin!" 

Dan laughed.   
  
Something stabbed at his temple like a migraine. He knew it wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that simple… He wondered if his shining had learned to manifest guilt into physical pain. As if he needed _that._ He downed his beer swiftly, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

When he looked up, Kris was staring at him with dinner plates for eyes.  
  
“You don’t mess around, do you?” She asked.  
  
The head rush of chugging made her just fuzzy enough that he couldn’t completely read the emotions swimming in her question. 

He couldn’t hear the fear.  
  
“Nah.” He said, with a wave of his hand. “I don’t know whose house this is, but I’ll drink ‘em dry if they don’t stop me.” He said, with a laugh.  
  
“Little help?” He asked, clapping his hands, then standing like a baseball catcher.  
  
Kris caught on after a second, and threw another can of beer at him.  
  
“Thanks, sweetheart.”  
  
Kris smiled, but there was a little trepidation as she walked towards Dan. “Hey, let’s not leave Mary hanging on that Diet Coke, yeah?”  
  
“Oh. Oh shit, her name is Mary Leigh, by the way. It’s like a _thing_ with her.” He said, candidly.  
  
“Oh, fuck, I should’ve known that. We’ve been in the same school district for so long…” Kris said, fiddling with the end of her ponytail as she led Dan out of the kitchen.  
  
Dan was halfway done with his second beer by the time they found Mary Leigh. She was sitting with her impossibly proper posture, pocketbook held in her lap, in the middle of a floral loveseat by one of the only lamps that was actually on. Dan wondered how long it had taken her to find the quietest room that wasn’t behind a closed door. He wondered if she’d turned the light on herself.

He didn’t think she was confident enough to do something like that.  
  
“A Diet Coke for the lady!” Dan said, trying to hand it to her without it sloshing. He failed. 

  
With a tiny shriek, Mary Leigh managed to avoid the spill, and it landed on the seat beside her.  
  
“Oh, we should probably-” Mary Leigh fidgeted nervously.  
  
Dan didn’t notice. His eyes were drawn across the hall where an older boy was tapping a keg.  
  
Kris looked at Dan, then rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Mary Leigh, I’ll help you clean it up.”  
  
Kris held her elbow out, because Mary Leigh looked terrified to be there, like she was in a haunted house. Mary Leigh crossed her arm into Kris’ and let her lead her towards the kitchen.  
  
Dan missed all the action, floating to the room across the hall like a cartoon character would float on the wave of a delicious smelling pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is at least two parts because I can't out off updating any longer, waiting has been agonizing. Figure it's better to leave on a cliff hanger than have nothing. 
> 
> Man In the Box is another Alice in Chains song. 
> 
> I recommend the live version of Brother.
> 
> Both songs are on the official fic playlist. 
> 
> Hope y'all are excited! Hope you enjoyed that! Got some stuff to add to Meanwhile, too, so keep an eye out!


	7. Cruel World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I left yall with that cliffhanger, huh? Well, business stuff: chapter title is from Promis by Slash and Chris Cornell, which is the song for this chapter. Keep your fire burning inside! 
> 
> TW has spoilers, so... flip a coin: 
> 
> ______
> 
> TW for torture, death, blood, brief vomit mention, fear brought on by internalized homophobia, and implications of Bad Parenting (dw it's not from anyone who is parenting our protags)

"DANNY BOY!" Someone slurred into a yell, grabbing Dan by the shoulder. It was Taylor McNamara, the only reasonably cool football player in the entire school. One of the few people Dan actually considered a friend. 

"Hey, man!" Dan said, with a bright smile, his train of thought violently torn away from the keg by the presence of his friend and the enormous plastic bottle of vodka tucked under his arm. 

"Didn't see you at the grad ceremony, whats up, Lor?" 

Taylor shrugged. "Didn't want to go." He said, breaking out into a grin and giggling. "Dude someone outside has weed let's  _ go."  _ He said, pulling Dan by the sleeve. 

Dan glanced over his shoulder at the people around the keg as Taylor pulled him away. The guy who had apparently brought it made eye contact with him and Dan felt a chill go down his spine. 

_ That is the most beautiful guy I've ever seen… _

The guy's eyes were intense, they almost seemed to be glowing, and before Dan knew it, they were completely out of sight of each other. 

Taylor had pulled him into the back yard where there was a loose association of stoners and people who broke their usual social circles to smoke at parties. 

Dan sat between Taylor and a girl he recognized that he thought was in junior year. He saw her in the hallway a lot. She had the darkest, most beautiful eyes. Dan didn't have time to admire them, though. He had a reputation, and everyone and their mother wanted to see how much it took to get him under the table. 

For the next hour or so he lived in a constant haze of joints, apple bongs, beers, and shots upon shots of any spirit you could imagine. 

Most people around the fire had taken in a forth of what Dan had, if  _ that,  _ and had scattered to have bad trips or puke in bushes. 

Taylor had mostly abstained, just to see how far Dan was going to go. He knew if worse came to worst, he'd probably be the only one who could convince him not to drive home. He could already hear Dan's voice in his head. 

_ It's less than a  _ mile,  _ Lor!  _

Well, it wasn't going to happen on his watch.

* * *

  
  


Avi tried not to make himself too obvious. He did not ask any questions about the blonde boy in the leather jacket. He knew he'd come stumbling back eventually. He'd have to walk through here to leave the party. 

No one else Avi had encountered yet was even remotely steamy enough to register any reaction. That one boy- well, maybe he was weak, but at least there had been  _ something.  _

Something that Avi couldn't even vaguely feel anymore. Had the kid already left? 

Avi decided to wander around and look for him. He had to take some initiative if he didn't want Rose to... _ over react.  _

When he finally stepped outside, he saw the guy laying on the ground, giggling, with a letterman jacket draped over him like a blanket. 

He was smashed. 

Avi clenched his fist. Had this all been a fluke? Was he just the poor errand boy Rose sent out because she wanted him gone? There was no steam here. Nothing  _ good,  _ anyway. Nothing worth the risk. 

Whatever this kid had, it was rotting. He was losing it. Maybe it had been good at one point but- 

Well, the older you got, the shittier your steam was, and some people grew out of it faster than others. 

Avi took a cigarette from behind his ear and put it in his mouth. He poked the big guy next to the roadkill smelling kid with the tip of his shoe. 

"Got a light?" 

The lighter was already halfway in Avi's hand before he finished the question. 

Maybe it hadn't been the blond boy. Maybe it was  _ this  _ guy. Like trying to smell a rose bush past the scent of a rotting corpse, he'd been hidden from Avi's radar. 

The brush of Taylor's fingers against the palm of his left hand gave him a good reading of who he was. It sent a little electrical tingle of information through his circulatory system. 

Avi looked around. No one was present of mind besides Taylor. He tried not to grimace at the rancid stink of rotting potential radiating from everyone else. This boy had something nice. It was pure.

Avi already knew what to do. 

He took a long drag off his cigarette. Taylor was watching him the whole time. Avi gave him a half grin as he exhaled through his nose. He stubbed the cigarette out on the padlock he was wearing around his neck, then tucked it back behind his ear. 

He wouldn't even need to push for this. That was his favorite kind of game. It felt so much more thrilling and- and maybe his food source was unconventional, but he didn't relish using his powers as a pusher to draw people in. There was no sport in that, anyway. 

"Hey do you want to find someplace to talk?" 

Taylor blinked up at him. "About what?" 

Avi chuckled. _"Do you care?"_

There was a beat of silence, and Taylor shook his head. Avi reached out a hand to help him up. 

"C’mon, I know a place." He whispered into Taylor's ear. Taylor's pulse spiked. 

"Wait." Taylor said, grabbing Avi's hand and pulling him to a halt. 

Avi worried for a moment, but Taylor pulled him behind a tree, brushed some curls off his forehead, and gave him a gentle kiss.

Avi was over the moon. No pushing and Taylor was putty in his hands and stupid enough to kiss him. To give him the vaguest taste of his steam. 

_ Oh, Rose is going to be happy.  _

He was only a fluke, but the True Knot was so hard up for fish, that he couldn't throw him back. 

"C’mon, loverboy." Avi laughed, pulling Taylor towards the door. 

* * *

  
  


Mark yawned again. Richie had lost count by now. His eyes were starting to feel heavy, too. 

"Movie is almost over." He muttered. He was amazed that his heart rate had been able to stabilize enough to even allow him to feel tired. When Mark had first leaned onto him, he forgot how to breathe, but now they were wilting onto each other, arms wrapped around the other. Just sitting there on the bean bag, heads leaned against the foot of the bed. A situation Richie couldn't even have dreamed of, but it was real. 

Mark let out a humming sigh, cuddling closer to Richie. "I've seen it before." 

Richie was surprised to hear that. "Why didn't you say something?" 

Mark's eyes were closed, but he turned his face towards Richie's and smiled. "You seemed really excited about it." 

"Well I…" Richie couldn't think of a response. He furrowed his brows. "I mean, I could have watched  _ Point Break  _ on my own some other time, I know you wanted to watch that French movie, I wouldn't have minded at all if we-" 

Mark shook his head. "I like it when you're excited." He opened his eyes just a bit. "I like to see you smile." 

Mark was blushing enough that Richie could tell even in the dim lighting. He couldn't help himself. Now that he knew it was allowed. Now that he knew how Mark felt. And seeing how sweet and shy he looked, there, with his arms wrapped around Richie and his fingers flexing just slightly from nerves. 

Richie leaned down and kissed him with an incredible softness neither of them knew him to be capable of. 

Mark didn’t move. He didn't want to wreck the angle or clash their teeth. He felt so warm and perfect, with Richie clinging to his shoulders. All the intensity that he was reserving so the kiss could be so soft was radiating off of the rest of him with his tightening grip and his crossed legs bouncing slightly. 

Mark finally backed out of the kiss by leaning his forehead onto Richie's. 

"I hate- I really hate that I'm going to say this…" Mark whispered. Richie froze. 

Mark shook his head. "No, I just- I'm  _ so  _ tired, Richie." 

Richie let out a sigh of relief. He fully hugged Mark. "You can sleep in Dan's bed, okay?" Richie said, not waiting for an answer. He stood, pulling Mark up with him. Mark didn't squirm like he usually did when someone picked him up. But usually people were just picking him up to make fun of how small he was. 

For some reason, it felt sort of nice to feel small compared to Richie right now. It felt safe and warm. 

"Where are you gonna sleep?" Mark muttered. 

"Floor." Richie said, plainly. 

Mark shook his head. 

"Can't you just sleep with me?" 

His eyes shot open and he blushed again. "I mean not like- just on the same bed, you know? I didn't mean- I'm sorry I didn't-" 

Richie stifled laughter. "Mark, shut up, I didn't think that you- and it's not like someone else heard you. I knew what you meant." He said, letting go of Mark. Mark fell into a sitting position in the bed. 

He looked down at the ground. "Well, will you?" 

It was silent for a moment, then the VHS clicked and the room was drowned in the light and sound of static. 

Mark glanced up at Richie. 

Richie was looking at him with the strangest face. Like he was looking at something impossible. Like he was witnessing a miracle. 

And then his head snapped around, and he looked at the TV. He rushed over to shut it off. The room was thrust into darkness. 

"Richie?" Mark called out. 

Richie didn't want Mark to see him like this. On the verge of hyperventilating or crying or something. He wasn't even sure. He gulped down air as quietly as he could, and walked forward, bent over with his arms out to feel for the edge of the bed. 

"I'm...I'm right here, Mark."

Mark reached out and found Richie's arm. 

"M-my dad is probably going to wake us up tomorrow." Richie said, quietly. It sounded almost mournful. 

"Oh." Mark said, not even trying to hide his disappointment. "Yeah. Damn…" 

Richie's resolve broke hearing the tone in Mark's voice. How much he just wanted to be close to him. 

"I- what if I just hold you until you fall asleep?" 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. Yes. I want to." 

"Good."

* * *

"What is this place?" Taylor asked with a wobbling, uneasy laugh as Avi led him past a bonfire. People of all different ages and races were staring at him with strange, piercing eyes. 

"Oh, this is just where my family lives." Avi said, with a smile that didn't put Taylor at ease. Vaguely, he thought of making an excuse to leave, but as soon as he started trying to come up with something, he felt magnetized to this stage campsite. 

_ Stay. You want to stay.  _

Avi knocked on the door of a particularly menacing RV. There was some shuffling inside, then the door opened slowly. 

Warm, yellow light poured out, and standing in front of them was the most beautiful woman Taylor had ever seen. 

"Who-" 

"Shhh." She cut him off gently, her finger coming to rest against his lips. "I'm Rose." She said, answering his unasked question. 

Taylir heard rustling behind him. He turned slowly, his hand finally untangling from Avi's, and saw that the people that had been gathered around the bonfire were now starting to move towards him. 

Doors were opening and people were stepping out of RVs just to stare at him with hungry, evil eyes. 

He turned quickly, hoping for the soft embrace of Avi or Rose's eyes to calm him, but it was worse. It was so much worse to look at either of them. 

Rose looked angrily at Avi. "This is the best you could do?" She asked. Taylor felt like her voice could shake worlds. 

Avi nodded. "I know it's not much but what he's got- it's quality." 

_ Run, Taylor. Run right  _ now. 

But a louder voice in his head froze his feet where he was. 

_ And go where? You belong here. You can't leave.  _

It was Rose's voice. Taylor felt tears streaking down his cheeks. 

"How are you in my head?" He asked. 

The quiet weakness, the pure fear in his voice, it was delicious. Rose had to admit it. There wouldn't be anything left to save after feeding tonight, but it would be a good meal. 

Rose pushed Taylor and he stumbled backward, but didn't fall. She pushed him again, again, again. He was crying and finally collapsed, and she could see his features, drawn together in fear, painted deeply onto his face by the light of the bonfire. 

"You haven't cried in such a long time." Rose said, leaning over him and inhaling deeply. Her hair tickled his face and he shuddered. He finally felt a release from the mental soothing voice that had held him to this campground, but as soon he had the mind to leave, a man drove a long dagger into his wrist. It plunged into the ground, and to even think about struggling against it hurt immensely. 

A scream was ripped from Taylor, the loudest noise he'd ever made in his life, complete fear and pleading. 

"Stop! Stop!  _ Please!"  _

His other wrist. He couldn't see past his tears but he knew, many more people were standing around him than he'd initially guessed had lived here. 

"Oh, but I can't stop yet, Lor. That's what your friends call you, isn't it?" Rose whispered. Her finger ran up his cheek, wiping off a tear. She stuck her finger in her mouth to lick it off. 

"What the hell  _ are  _ you?" Taylor managed to wheeze out. 

"We are something older than time and bigger than Earth. And we need you,  _ Lor,  _ good and scared. Scared and in pain." 

Taylor felt it before it happened, it seemed. He couldn't see it until the light of the fire glinted off it as it was raised in the air, but his scream started before the hilt of the glit was even in her hand. It plunged into his side, and his wails continued. 

"Go on and scream, little boy. Go ahead. Nobody is going to find you out here. Go on and cry, because no one can hear you, and it's  _ music  _ to us." 

It was getting hard to breathe. Rose was poking the blade around inside him. He could feel the blood rushing from the wound as it was being torn open. Warmth leaving his body. 

Above him, a rhythmic breathing chorus, hollow and terrible like wind through the limbs of dead trees. 

He opened his eyes and the last thing he saw was red mist, floating up out of his mouth and past Avi's lips. 

* * *

_ "You were right. He did taste like flowers." _

Dan sat up suddenly, like someone had said it right into his ear. 

He looked around. There was no one there. There was a smoldered fire at his feet, and around his arms and torso, Taylor's letter jacket. 

Dan squirmed in the pale blue light of early morning. He shivered. Something felt massively wrong. As soon as he stood, he had to retch. 

The acrid taste in his mouth and nose was all too familiar. He shrugged Taylor's jacket on over his own. It felt unnaturally cold. 

He wandered from the back yard, around to the front, and into the street. The paperboy passed him, chucking newspapers towards houses with all his might. 

Dan looked at the number of the house he was at, then looked at the street sign and thanked every star he'd ever seen, lucky or  _ not,  _ that he was less than a mile from home. 

He patted his pockets, and then practically heard Taylor's voice in his head. 

_ If you drive home like this, I'll never forgive you.  _

Dan sighed and put his keys back in his pocket. He'd have to come get his car later. He crossed the street and cut through a few backyards until he was in his own. 

It hadn't been much of a walk, but he felt like collapsing right there in the grass. He forced himself to walk to the garage door. It was unlocked. He thought he'd probably anticipated the shaking hands and left it unlocked.

"Thanks, yesterday Dan." He muttered, as he stumbled through the doorway. 

He wove in and out between boxes of holiday decorations and other assorted nonsense until he was at his bedroom.

Dan pushed the door to his room open quickly, with every intent of immediately collapsing onto his bed. 

But he halted before he even took a step into the room. The light streaming in from the garage fell onto Richie, blissfully unaware, still sleeping deeply, and Mark, wrapped in Richie's arms and frozen in fear, his eyes wide as saucers. He was a deer caught in the headlights. Even through the haze of booze and drugs and the eventual hangover that was starting to thrum in Dan's bones, he could feel it. The abject terror Mark felt. The way his stomach sank. It made Dan feel sick.

It was dull but it was incredibly uncomfortable. Dan blinked drowsily. He had no idea what he was supposed to do to make Mark feel at ease. His only instinct was to leave as quickly as possible. To get out of Mark's gaze so he wouldn't feel this emotional itch. 

He put his finger to his lips. Mark just kept staring as he shut the door slowly. When it was shut, the spell was broken. Dan was alone in his emotions again. 

"Fuck…" he muttered under his breath, as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom he used to share with Richie. 

He'd figure it out tomorrow. Right now he just needed to sleep. 

* * *

When Richie woke up, he was tangled in the blankets of Dan's bed. He yawned and scratched his face, and started looking around for something. He didn't know what until his eyes landed on it. 

There was Mark, on the floor on his back. His eyes were closed, but tears were falling down his cheeks anyway. Richie blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light streaming in from underneath the door, not sure he could believe what they were telling him. He reached up and turned on the lamp. 

Mark shuddered and whimpered at the sudden light, and his eyes flew open. 

"Mark?" Richie asked quietly. He reached a hand out and Mark flinched away. 

"You- Richie, you-" Mark sobbed. 

Richie's heart stopped. He felt his world spin upside-down and throw him off. 

As he was floating away, he reached for Mark's hand, and Mark grabbed him, and it pulled him back to reality. 

"Your brother  _ saw."  _ Mark whispered. 

"Saw what?" Richie asked, panicked. 

"Us in the same bed. You h-holding me." 

Mark looked so scared and so- Richie couldn't believe it…  _ apologetic.  _

"I'm sorry, Richie, I'm so sorry!" Mark dropped Richie's hand, and crossed his arms over his chest like a corpse. "It's my fault. I asked you to- I wanted you to hold me so bad that I didn't care, I thought I didn't care and everything would be fine, but he  _ saw,  _ and it's all my-my-" Mark's words dissolved into sobs. 

Richie lowered himself onto the floor and sat on his knees, then pulled Mark up into a hug. Mark wanted to fight and pull away, but he couldn't find the will to do it. 

Richie rubbed his back. Mark knew he was scared, too. But he just started talking. He was the best at talking. 

"There's no way he was sober." He said, like he was starting to put a puzzle together in his head. "He probably doesn't even remember. He definitely wouldn't have told anyone." 

"How do you know that?" Mark asked. 

Richie laughed. "That would mean talking to mom or dad. He doesn't- I mean when he's been to a party, we usually don't even see him for the day, he has to sleep it off. I- you-" 

Richie stopped and pulled back, looking at Mark. "You definitely aren't going to see him before you leave and he definitely didn't tell anyone." Richie said, very seriously. 

"How do you know that?" 

Richie closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. Dan- Dan was home. Dan was asleep. Dan was having nightmares. Dan was  _ not  _ thinking about Mark at all. 

"I just do. Do you trust me?" 

Mark looked at him for a long moment. "Of course." He finally breathed out. Richie nodded. 

The floorboards above them groaned, and Mark seized in fear. Someone was awake and walking around. 

"It's just my dad making pancakes, okay? He's the only one who walks like that." 

"You know the sound of his walk?" 

Richie nodded. "Don't you know what it sounds like when your dad is walking around the house?" 

Mark thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess I just always thought it was weird that I did." 

Richie laughed and shook his head. "It's just one of those things you learn when you're not paying attention." 

Richie looked at Mark, and put a hand on his cheek, quickly wiping a fresh tear away with his thumb. 

"Get on the bed. My dad is probably going to come down soon but maybe- maybe you can get a little sleep before then." 

Mark nodded and did as he was told, though he knew he wouldn't fall asleep. He knew how to play possum, though, and if that would make Richie feel better, then he would. 

He climbed onto the bed, then handed one of the pillows down to Richie. 

"You sleep, too." 

Richie smiled softly and nodded. "Sure." 

By the time Wentworth had skipped down the stairs to sing the boys awake with that song from  _ Singin' In The Rain  _ that he always woke Richie up with on weekends, both boys were solidly pretending to sleep, both comforted by the idea that the other was resting soundly. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the world tries to slap you,  
> And it seems to love watching you fall,  
> I won't lie to you, its gonna happen,  
> You've got to pick yourself up and move on
> 
> \- Promise, Slash & Chris Cornell
> 
> \--
> 
> I'm taking some liberties with The True Knot because I really like the image presented of thrm in the movie and BEING TOTALLY HONEST... I haven't finished Doctor Sleep the Book. So if you have any "hey why the hell is the knot acting Like That?" questions, your answer is: the author was having fun making himself nauseated writing that death scene.


End file.
